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ILLUSTRATED 

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JAPAN  VELLVn,  ETCHINGS 

HAND  PAINTED  INDIA-PLATE 

REPRODVCTIONS.AND 

FVLL  PAGE  PORTRAITS 

OFAVTHORS. 


OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXQ 


M.WALTEK  DUNE,  PUBLISHER 


WASHINGTON  tr  LONDON 


COPYRIGHT,   1901, 

BY 

M.   WALTER    DUNNE, 

PUBLISHER 


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PROM  AJACCIO  TO  WATERLiX). 
AS  SOLDIER,  EMPEROR,  HUSBAND 

7Y/£  BEDCHAMBER    OF  MA&IE    ANTOINETTE   IN 
THE 


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W/VSIIINGTO 


4       . 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 
EMPEROR  NAPOLEON 


FROM  AJACCIO  TO  WATERLOO, 


AS  SOLDIER,  EMPEROR,  HUSBAND 


MADAME  JUNOT 

DUCHESSE  DE  D'ABRANTES 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES 
VOL.  I 


WITH  SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION  BY 


S.  M.  HAMILTON 

EDITOR  OP  "LETTERS  TO  WASHINGTON 


N.WALTER  DUNNE,PUBLISHF.R 
WASHINGTON  &  LONDON 


COPYRIGHT,    1901, 

BY 

M.   WALTER    DUNNE, 

PUBLISHER 


URL 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOLUME  t. 

THE    BEDCHAMBER    OF    MARIE    ANTOINETTE    IN    THE    PALACE 

OF   FONTAINEBLEAU Frontispiece 

Hand-painted  photogravure. 

NAPOLEON   AT   CAIRO 215 

Photogravure  after  Gerome. 


VOLUME  II. 

NAPOLEON,   1815 Frontispiece 

Photogravure  after  Sandoz. 

THE   THRONE   OK    NAPOLEON    IN    THE    PALACE    OF   FONTAINE- 
BLEAU         233 


VOLUME  III. 

THE   EDUCATION   OF   THE   KING   OF   ROME    ....     Frontispiece 
After  Zamacois. 

PRINCE  TALLEYRAND 347 

Photogravure  after  Gerard. 

(vii) 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 

LAURE  PERMON  JUNOT,  the  Duchess  of  Abrantes  was 
born  November  6,  1784,  at  Montpellier,  a  year  after 
the  signing  by  ourselves  and  England  of  the  Defin- 
itive Treaty  of  Peace.  She  came  of  a  Corsican  family 
descended,  says  tradition,  from  the  line  of  Comnenus,  the 
Eastern  Emperors.  Madame  de  Permon,  her  mother,  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  Madame  Laetitia  Bonaparte.  The 
two  families  were  neighbors  at  Ajaccio,  the  children  in 
consequence  playmates.  Madame  Junot's  acquaintance 
with  Napoleon  dates  then  from  his  boyhood.  In  these 
memoirs,  as  she  says,  she  conducts  him,  as  it  were,  by 
the  hand  almost  from  the  cradle  to  mature  age  through 
the  world,  which  rang  with  his  marvelous  deeds  to  the 
end  of  it  all  —  Waterloo.  She  draws  him  in  many  moods 
and  characters  —  the  man  in  if  not  of  peace  as  well  as 
the  man  of  blood  and  conscript  youths.  She  was  on 
terms  of  close  intimacy  with  Josephine  and  spent  many 
days  at  Malmaison.  A  participant  in  the  excitements  and 
social  life  of  the  French  Capital  and  acquainted  with  the 
celebrities  of  the  day  her  memoirs  abound  in  anecdote; 
and  the  social  recollections  from  her  own  life  are  related 
in  a  charming  and  vivacious  style  throughout.  Doubt- 
less, as  has  been  said,  they  bear  errors  of  composition, 
and,  at  times,  are  historically  inexact,  some  of  the  recol- 
lections being  perhaps  more  fictitious  than  real,  romance 
rather  than  history.  But  even  granting  this  these  memoirs 
of  a  remarkable  and  brilliant  woman  are  full  of  life  and 
charm  and  present  a  truthful  picture  in  the  main  of 
illustrious  and  conspicuous  phases  of  a  very  wonderful 
period  of  the  history  of  France  and  of  the  world. 

It  was  after  the  French  Revolution  that  the  Permon 
family  came  to  Paris,  sent  there,  it  is  said,  by  the  father 
to  secure  good  matches  for  his  daughters.  Their  pretty 
house  in  Chaussee  d'Autin  became  a  favorite  gathering 
place  of  a  mixed  society  composed  of  those  of  the  ancien 
regime  who  survived  the  days  of  Terror,  and  of  the 

(ix) 


x  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

young  officers  who  thronged  Paris  in  the  days  preceding 
the  rising  of  Napoleon's  star  of  glory.  Madame  de  Per- 
mon, somewhat  of  an  aristocrat,  drew  the  former,  and 
the  daughters,  beautiful  and  witty,  attracted  the  latter. 
Madame  de  Permon  herself  was  beautiful  and  of  remark- 
ably youthful  appearance  for  her  years.  Madame  Junot 
says  that  Napoleon  asked  her  mother  to  marry  him  but 
that  she  being  so  many  years  his  senior  merely  smiled 
on  his  suit.  This  story,  however,  is  probably  one  of  the 
romances,  there  being,  I  believe,  no  evidence  for  the 
truth  of  it. 

Among  the  officers  who  frequented  the  Permon's  draw- 
ing rooms  the  only  one  that  concerns  the  subject  of  this 
note  was  Andoche  Junot,  afterward  the  Duke  of  Abran- 
tes,  General  of  Hussars,  Ambassador  of  France  and  Com- 
mander Supreme  in  Portugal,  Governor  of  Paris  and 
Governor  General  of  Illyria,  one  of  Napoleon's  bravest 
and  most  energetic  captains.  To  this  soldier  of  France 
Laure  Permon  was  united  in  marriage.  It  was  a  brilliant 
contract.  Junot  in  person  was  eminently  handsome  but 
his  manners  have  been  represented  as  coarse  and  his 
character  rapacious  and  cruel.  He  had,  however,  a  con- 
siderable share  of  moral  as  well  as  physical  energy.  His 
portrait  as  painted  by  his  wife  does  him  more  honor  than 
other  writers  give  him.  To  her  he  had  a  "superior 
mind;  he  was  a  stranger  to  falsehood  and  was  endowed 
with  a  generosity  which  his  enemies  have  endeavored  to 
represent  as  a  vice."  This  is  an  allusion  to  his  extrava- 
gant tastes  and  reckless  expenditure  of  money — reckless- 
ness in  which  his  wife  unfortunately  shared.  Of  the 
considerable  fortunes,  says  Las  Cases,  which  the  Emperor 
had  bestowed  that  of  Junot  was  one  of  the  most  lavish, 
the  sum  he  had  given  him  almost  exceeded  belief,  yet  he 
was  always  in  debt,  he  squandered  fortunes  without 
credit  to  himself  and  without  discernment  or  taste.  At 
the  time  of  their  marriage  Napoleon  gave  Laure  Permon 
and  Junot  one  hundred  thousand  francs  and  at  the  birth 
of  their  first  child  in  1801  another  one  hundred  thousand 
francs  and  a  house  in  the  Champs  Elysees.  This  child, 
a  daughter,  had  for  sponsors  Bonaparte  and  Josephine. 
Her  godfather  gave  her  a  beautiful  pearl  necklace  and 
the  sum  of  money  above  mentioned  was  given  in  the 
name  of  Josephine  and  was  for  the  purpose  of  furnishing 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION  xi 

the  house.  Thus  munificently  did  Napoleon  start  his 
boyhood  companion  on  the  road  of  life.  But  her  extrava- 
gance outran  the  generosity  of  even  so  powerful  a  friend 
and  her  debts  piled  up  as  high  and  as  rapidly  as  the 
tradesmen  would  let  them.  She  went  with  her  husband 
to  Lisbon,  and  there  her  retinue  and  surroundings  were 
more  expensive  than  those  of  a  queen.  On  her  return 
to  Paris,  her  generous  style  of  living  increased  if  it  were 
possible  and  through  a  feeling  inherited,  no  doubt,  from 
her  mother's  partiality  to  the  old  class,  she  opened  her 
drawing  room  to  the  older  families,  as  well  as  to  the  new 
men  of  the  Empire.  But  the  Emperor  at  this  time  re- 
garded his  old  acquaintance  with  suspicion. 

Madame  Junot  accompanied  her  husband  through  the 
Spanish  campaign,  and,  it  is  said,  contrived  to  give 
pleasant  balls  and  drawing  rooms  all  along  the  route. 
Truly  a  life  replete  with  the  excitement  and  the  glory 
that  were  the  only  thoughts  of  France.  After  her  hus- 
band's sad  and  tragic  death  in  1813,  Napoleon,  reverting 
perhaps  to  his  recent  suspicion,  forbade  her  return  to 
Paris;  but  it  seems  to  have  been  but  a  perfunctory  pro- 
hibition for  she  ignored  his  command  and  returning  to 
Paris,  opened  her  house  and  again  attracted  to  it  all  the 
celebrities  of  the  day.  But  the  end  was  soon  to  come; 
the  Empire  terminated  and  with  it  many  careers  and 
fortunes.  Junot  had  in  his  lifetime  been  in  possession 
of  an  income  of  more  than  a  million  of  francs  and  now 
his  widow,  penniless  and  utterly  ruined,  was  compelled, 
in  her  poverty,  to  seek  an  asylum  in  L'Abbaye-au-Bois. 
Fallen  from  so  high  a  rank  and  fortune  she  exhibited 
the  true  greatness  of  her  nature  and  bore  her  reverses 
with  a  fortitude  becoming  a  "woman  of  France." 

It  was  in  this  period  that  she  sought  solace  in  recollections 
of  the  past  and  with  zeal  devoted  herself  to  literature. 
In  this  manner  her  memoirs  came  to  be  written.  She 
was  the  writer  also  of  articles  and  romances  that  were 
widely  read.  She  died  in  Paris,  June  7,  1838.  "At 
once,"  as  her  biographer  describes  her,  "an  artist  and  a 
fine  lady,  a  woman  of  letters  and  of  the  drawing  room, 
generous  to  a  fault  with  her  money  and  her  intelligence, 
as  cheerful  in  poverty  as  in  wealth,  as  much  admired  by 
Parisian  society  in  the  most  humble  apartment  as  in  her 
splendid  mansion  in  the  Champs  Elysees,  a  noble  nature, 


xii  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

above  vulgar  ambitions  and  petty  calculations,  the  Duch- 
ess d'Abrantes  occupies  a  place  apart  among  the  cele- 
brated women  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire."  In  her 
life,  in  her  associations  and  surroundings,  and  in  the 
friendships  she  inspired  Laure  de  Permon,  Madame  Ju- 
not,  Duchess  d'Abrantes  was  no  ordinary  woman,  and 
the  recollections  that  she  has  left  to  us  of  her  life  and 
times  give  us  pages  that  will  bear  many  readings  before  we 
tire  of  them. 


«-a.  Th , 


CONTENTS 


VOL.   I. 

PAGE 

SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION ix 

PREFATORY  REMARKS  by  the  Author i 

AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 3 

CHAPTER  I. —  Intimacy  of  the  Permcn  and  the  Bonaparte  families  .       9 

CHAP.  II. —  Napoleon  as  a  young  man  —  Life  in  Paris 16 

CHAP.  III. —  Death  of  Napoleon's  father  .in  the  Permon  house     .     .     22 
CHAP.  IV. —  Sub- Lieutenant  Bonaparte,  his  first  appearance  in  uni- 
form—  Scene  at  Malmaison 28 

CHAP.  V. —  Popular  ferment  —  Louis  XVI. —  Firing  on  the  crowd    .     34 
CHAP.  VI. —  Opening  of  the  States-General  —  Mirabeau,  his  manner, 

genius,  and  character 39 

CHAP.  VII. —  Revolutionary   scenes  —  Louis  XVI.    at  the  Hotel  de 

Ville 48 

CHAP.  VIII. —  Murder  of  the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  the  King,  and 

Madame  Elizabeth 53 

CHAP.  IX.  —  Arrest  of  General  Bonaparte  —  His  speech  at  Ajaccio  — 

Lieutenant  Junot  offers  to  come  to  his  rescue 57 

CHAP.  X. —  Madame  Permon's  return  to  Paris  —  Visit  from  General 

Bonaparte — Reception  at  Madame    Permon's 64 

CHAP.  XI. —  Destitute  circumstances  of  General  Bonaparte — His 
friend  Lieutenant  Junot — Junot's  proposal  for  the  hand  of  Pau- 
line Bonaparte 70 

CHAP.  XII.  —  The  Convention  —  Salicetti    in  hiding — Inconvenient 

visit  of  General  Bonaparte 77 

CHAP.  XIII. —  Suicide  of  Romme,  Goujon,  and  Duquesnoi     ...     87 
CHAP.  XIV. —  A  new  "  valet  "  --  The  escape  of  Salicetti  —  Penetra- 
tion of  Napoleon  —  Journey  to  the  South  of  France 91 

CHAP.  XV. —  Suspicions  of  M.  Permon — Bonaparte  incorruptible    .     97 
CHAP.  XVI. —  Atrocities  in  the  South  —  General  Bonaparte's  kind- 
ness—  The  barricades  —  Death  of  M.   Permon 103 

CHAP.  XVII. — The  Veuve  Permon  returns  to  Paris  —  General  Bona- 
parte of  great  assistance —  Furnishing  a  new  house     .     .     .     .114 
CHAP.  XVIII. —  Proposals  of  marriage  —  General   Bonaparte  asks 
also  for  the  hand  of  the  Veuve  Permon,  and  is  refused  —  Dimo 
Stephanopoli's  commission  —  Quarrel  with  General  Bonaparte    .   121 
CHAP.  XIX. — M.  de  Geouffre — His  marriage  with  Cecile  Permon 

—  Her  early  death  —  The  Comte  de    Perigord  —  The  younger 
Permon  receives  an  appointment 129 

CHAP.  XX. — Sketches    of    Parisian    society  —  Madame    de    D 

—  Madame  Tallien  —  Madame  Bonaparte 141 

(xiii) 


xiv  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


PAGE 


CHAP.  XXI.  —  Triumphs  of  the  Army  of  Italy — Lucien  and  Christine 
Bonaparte  —  Albert  Permon's  escapade  —  Reception  of  Bona- 
parte in  Paris 146 

CHAP.  XXII. —  A  false  alarm  of  Madame  Permon's  death,  and  its 
consequences 156 

CHAP.  XXIII.  —  Joseph  Bonaparte  and  his  wife  —  Caroline  Bona- 
parte   160 

CHAP.  XXIV. —  Madame  Bonaparte's  indiscretions — M.  de  Caulain- 
court — Napoleon's  conversation  with  Albert  Permon  ....  167 

CHAP.  XXV. —  Colonel  Junot  —  Junot  at  the  Siege  of  Toulon  —  His 
attachment  to  Napoleon  —  Death  of  Muiron  —  Junot's  gallantry 
to  Madame  de  Brionne — "  La  Tempete  " 174 

CHAP.  XXVI.  —  Junot  appointed  General  —  His  services  in  Egypt  — 
Duel  with  General  Lanusse  — Junot's  ship  taken  by  the  English 

—  Admiral  Nelson  —  Sir   Sidney   Smith's  chivalry  —  He  chal- 
lenges Napoleon  to  a  duel 189 

CHAP.  XXVII.  —  Madame  Bonaparte-Leclerc — Rudeness  of  Madame 
de  Contades  —  Madame  Marmont 198 

CHAP.  XXVIII. —  General  Hoche  —  Madame  Tallien  (Cabarrus)  — 
La  Citoyenne  Bonaparte  —  Junot's  flirtation  with  a  pretty  fem- 
me  de  chambre 205 

CHAP.  XXIX. —  Generals  Champiormet  and  Joubert  —  General 
Suchet — General  Bonaparte  at  vingt-et- un 211 

CHAP.  XXX. —  Madame  Laatitia  —  Sudden  return  of  Napoleon  from 

Egypt  —  Family  scandals 215 

CHAP.  XXXI. — General  Moreau — The  crisis  —  Dangerous  position 
of  Bonaparte  —  Gohier  and  Moreau 220 

CHAP.  XXXII.  —  Revolution  of  the  8th  of  November  —  The  Council 
of  Five  Hundred  —  Lucien  Bonaparte  —  The  murder  at  the  Cha- 
teau de  Vitry 230 

CHAP.  XXXIII.  — General  Massena  at  Genoa  — The  Battle  of  Ma- 

rengo  —  General  Kellermann  —  Death  of  Desaix 239 

CHAP.  XXXIV. —  Death  of  Madame  Lucien  Bonaparte  —  Grief  of 

Lucien 246 

CHAP.  XXXV. —  Intended  betrothal  of  Laura  Permon  —  Return  of 
General  Junot — His  appointment  as  Governor  of  Paris  — 
Othello  —  Madame  Foures  — Junot's  search  for  a  wife  — 
Madame  Permon  mistaken  for  the  widow  of  Marshal  Turenne  .  249 

CHAP.  XXXVI. —  General  Junot  proposes  for  Laura  Pennon's  hand 

—  His  impatience  —  Conversation  between  Junot  and  the  First 
Consul 258 

CHAP.  XXXVII. —  General  Murat's  marriage  —  His  person  and 
dress 267 

CHAP.  XXXVIII. —  General  Junot's  family  —  Conversation  of  the 
First  Consul  with  Corvisart 273 

CHAP.  XXXIX. —  Anecdote  of  Fouch6  —  Amusing  predicament  of 
General  Berthier 278 

CHAP.  XL.  —  Madame  Permon  goes  to  the  opera  and  sees  the  First 
Consul  arrive,  after  the  attempt  made  to  assassinate  him  —  The 
conspiracy  of  Ceracchi  and  Arena 286 


CONTENTS  xv 

PACK 

CHAP.  XLI. —  Illness  of  Madame  Permon  —  Burglars  in  the  house  — 
The  recital  of  the  event  to  the  Emperor  in  1806 301 

CHAP.  XLII. —  Lucien  Bonaparte's  views  —  Laura  Pennon's  mar- 
riage contract  —  Albert  Permon  made  Commissary  General  of 
Police  — A  civil  marriage  only  intended,  and  objected  to — Wed- 
ding presents  308 

CHAP.  XLIII. —  The  civil  marriage  of  General  Junot  and  Mademoi- 
selle Permon  —  The  Abbe  Lusthier  —  The  midnight  marriage 
at  the  church  of  the  Capuchins 320 

CHAP.  XLIV. —  General  Junot's  comrades-in-arms  —  Lannes  — 
Duroc  —  Bessieres  —  Rapp  —  Berthier  —  Eugene  Beauharnais  — 
M.  de  Lavalette  —  Madame  Bacciochi  (Bonaparte) 326 

CHAP.  XLV. —  M.  de  Caulaincourt  and  Generals  Rapp  and  Lannes  — 
Tragi-comic  scene 332 

CHAP.  XLVI. —  Presented  at  Court  —  The  First  Consul  —  Mademoi- 
selle de  Beauharnais 336 

CHAP.  XLVII.  —  The  wedding  ball  —  Napoleon  accepts  an  invitation 

—  The  ball  deferred 341 

CHAP.  XLVIII. —  The   ball  —  The  famous  dancers  —  Conversation 

with  Napoleon 347 

CHAP.  XLIX. —  Lucien  Bonaparte  —  Embarrassment  of  the  First 
Consul 357 

CHAP.  L. —  Madame  Bonaparte's  apartments  —  The  new  Court  — 
The  Diplomatic  Corps 362 

CHAP.  LI. —  Revival  of  public  prosperity  —  A  satirical  picture  — 
Popularity  of  Napoleon 371 

CHAP.  LII. —  Napoleon's  liaison  with  Pauline  Foures  —  Gallantry  of 
Kleber 375 

CHAP.  LIU. —  Junot's  work  in  Paris  —  Chevalier's  conspiracy  — 
The  Chouans 382 

CHAP.  LIV. — Napoleon  at  the  opera  —  The  infernal  machine  — 

General  alarm 386 

CHAP.  LV. —  The  First  Consul  condemns  the  emigrants  —  Madame 
Murat 396 

CHAP.  LVI. —  Breakfast  with  Madame  Bonaparte  —  Visit  to  the 
lions 402 

CHAP.  LVII. —  Madame  Junot's  receptions — Cambaceres  —  Bon- 
mot  of  Bonaparte  —  General  Mortier 407 

CHAP.  LVIII. — A  petitioner  is  rewarded  by  Napoleon  —  The 
Governor  of  the  Bastile  and  the  pension  —  General  Charbonnier.  419 

CHAP.  LIX. — M.  Charles  —  His  friendship  for  the  Empress  Jose- 
phine—  A  divorce 431 

CHAP.  LX. — Kl&ber's  tribute  to  Napoleon  —  Affairs  in  Egypt  —  Dis- 
like of  Tallien 436 

CHAP.  LXI. —  Lucien's  embassy  to  Madrid — Reduction  of  Egypt 

—  The  Queen's  sister 440 

CHAP.  LXII. —  Malmaison — Insincerity  of  the  Empress  Josephine.  446 
CHAP.  LXIII. —  Theatricals  at  Malmaison  —  A  curious  scene  —  A 

night  alarm 450 


PREFATORY   REMARKS 

BY 

THE    DUCHESSE    D'ABRANTES 


As  THE  "Commentaries"  of  Caesar,  the  military  "Memoirs" 
of  Marshal  Villars,  the  <(  Reveries  "  of  Marshal  Saxe, 
etc.,  relate  solely  to  military  affairs, —  sieges,  bat- 
tles, etc., —  so,  I  think,  should  contemporary  memoirs 
render  a  faithful  account  of  those  incidents  which  are 
passing  immediately  around  the  author  at  the  period  of 
which  he  is  treating,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  come 
after  him.  Every  object  should  take  its  proper  form 
and  coloring,  and  that  coloring  should  arouse  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader  a  vivid  impression  of  the  event  and 
its  attendant  circumstances;  not  the  ball  only  should  be 
described,  but  the  ball-dress. 

To  be  exact  in  such  matters  is  a  duty,  for  if  the  author 
be  not  expected  to  paint  like  Tacitus  the  vices  of  gov- 
ernments, corrupt,  despotic,  or  declining,  his  pencil  should 
trace  the  general  outline  of  all  that  he  has  seen.  In  this 
picture  the  daily  scenes  of  the  drawing-room  should 
especially  have  their  place;  to  speak  of  them  is  to  por- 
tray them.  To  dress  the  personages  in  the  coat  or  the 
gown  they  wore  on  the  occasion  under  review,  if  one  be 
fortunate  enough  to  remember  it,  is  to  lay  on  those  fresh 
and  lively  colors  which  give  to  the  whole  the  charm  of 
reality. 

This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  grand  attraction  of  the 
Memoirs  of  Madame  de  Motteville,  of  Mademoiselle  ! 
They  are  almost  always  badly  written,  frequently  guilty 
of  the  grossest  faults  of  style,  yet  what  truth  in  their 
descriptions  !  We  become  acquainted  with  the  individ- 
uals we  read  of;  and  when  Madame  de  Motteville  speaks 
of  the  cambric  sheets  of  Queen  Anne,  and  the  violet 
robe  embroidered  with  pearls  which  she  wore  on  the  day 
i  (i) 


2  PREFATORY   REMARKS 

when  she  sat  in  Council  for  the  registering-  the  edicts  of 
toleration;  and  when  Mademoiselle  describes  the  form  of 
her  own  shoes  on  the  day  when,  according  to  the  ex- 
pression of  M.  de  Luxembourg,  she  established  the  for- 
tune of  a  cadet  of  good  family.  I  imagine  myself  in  the 
Parliament  of  1649  with  the  Queen,  M.  de  Beaufort,  M. 
the  Coadjutor,  and  all  the  great  men  of  the  Fronde,  or 
I  fancy  myself  in  the  orangery  of  Versailles  with  Ma- 
demoiselle, in  her  white  satin  robe  trimmed  with  carnation 
ribands  and  tassels  of  rubies. 

The  writer  of  memoirs  must  give  life  to  the  scenes  he 
represents,  and  that  excess  of  detail  which  would  destroy 
any  other  work  can  alone  produce  the  desired  effect  in 
this.  Therefore  it  is  that  I  have  given  a  catalogue  of 
my  corbeille  and  trousseau.  We  should  rejoice  in  these 
days  to  find  in  Philip  de  Comines  a  description  of  a 
corbeille  of  the  time  of  Louis  XI.  or  Philip  the  Good; 
happily,  he  gives  us  better  things. 


THE 


AUTHOR'S    INTRODUCTION 

T  O    T  HE 

ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


EVERYBODY  nowadays  publishes  Memoirs;  everyone  has 
recollections  which  they  think  worthy  of  recording. 
Following  the  example  of  many  others,  I  might  long 
ago  have  taken  a  retrospective  view  of  the  past;  I  might 
have  revealed  a  number  of  curious  and  unknown  facts 
respecting  a  period  which  has  riveted  the  interest  of  the 
world ;  but  the  truth  is,  I  was  not,  until  recently,  infected 
with  the  mania  which  is  so  universal  of  memoir  writing, 
yet  I  felt  a  certain  degree  of  vexation  whenever  I  ob- 
served an  announcement  of  new  memoirs. 

I  commenced  my  life  at  a  period  fertile  in  remarkable 
events,  and  I  lived  in  habits  of  daily  intimacy  with  the 
actors  of  the  great  political  drama  which  has  engrossed 
the  attention  of  Europe  for  thirty-five  years. 

I  have  witnessed,  or  have  taken  part  in,  many  of  the 
exciting  scenes  which  occurred  during  an  epoch  of  won- 
der and  horror;  and  though  I  was  at  the  time  very 
young,  every  incident  remains  indelibly  engraven  on 
my  memory.  The  importance  of  events  on  which  the 
fate  of  a  great  nation  depended  could  not  fail  to  influ- 
ence the  bent  of  my  mind.  This  influence,  I  imagine, 
must  have  been  felt  by  all  women  who  have  been  my 
contemporaries.  With  regard  to  myself,  at  least,  I  can 
confidently  affirm  that  I  retain  no  recollection  of  the  joys 
of  early  childhood  —  of  the  light-heartedness  which  at 
that  period  of  life  annihilates  sorrow,  and  leaves  behind 
an  imperishable  impression. 

No  sooner  did  my  understanding  begin  to  develop  it- 
self than  I  was  required  to  employ  it  in  guarding  all  my 

(3) 


4  AUTHOR'S   INTRODUCTION 

words  and  gestures;  for  at  the  period  to  which  I  allude, 
the  veriest  trifle  might  become  the  subject  of  serious  in- 
vestigation. Even  the  sports  and  games  of  childhood 
were  rigorously  watched,  and  I  shall  never  forget  that  a 
domiciliary  visit  was  made  to  our  house  at  Toulouse,  and 
my  father  was  on  the  point  of  being  arrested  because, 
while  playing  at  the  game  called  La  Tour,  prends  garde! 
I  said  to  a  little  boy  of  five  years  old,  (<  You  shall  be 
MONSIEUR  LE  DAUPHIN.  w  Continual  danger  imposed  on 
every  individual  the  obligation  of  not  only  guarding  his 
own  conduct,  but  observing  that  of  others.  Nothing, 
however  trifling,  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the 
heads  of  families  and  those  who  surrounded  them ;  and  the 
child  of  ten  years  old  became  an  observer. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  anxieties  that  my  first  years 
were  passed:  later  on  our  lives  resumed  their  normal 
course,  and  a  mother  of  a  family  ceased  to  tremble  for 
the  fate  of  a  father  and  a  husband.  At  the  period  to 
which  I  refer,  the  misfortunes  of  France  were  at  their 
height.  The  impressions  which  I  then  imbibed  are  per- 
haps the  strongest  I  ever  experienced. 

The  private  interests  of  my  family  became  linked  with 
public  events.  Between  my  mother  and  the  Bonaparte 
family  the  closest  friendship  subsisted.  He  who  after- 
ward became  the  master  of  the  world  lived  long  on  a 
footing  of  intimacy  with  us.  He  used  to  frequent  my 
father's  house  when  I  was  yet  a  child,  and  he  scarcely  a 
young  man.  I  may  almost  say  that  I  have  witnessed 
every  scene  of  his  life ;  for  being  married  to  one  of  those 
men  who  were  devotedly  attached  to  him,  and  constantly 
with  him,  what  I  did  not  myself  see  I  was  accurately  in- 
formed of.  I  may,  therefore,  fearlessly  affirm  that  of  all 
the  individuals  who  have  written  about  Napoleon,  few 
are  so  competent  as  myself  to  give  a  detailed  account  of 
him.  My  mother,  who  was  the  friend  of  Laetitia  Bona- 
parte, knew  him  from  his  earliest  youth.  She  rocked 
him  in  his  cradle,  and,  when  he  quitted  Brienne  and 
came  to  Paris,  she  guided  and  protected  his  younger 
days. 

Not  only  Napoleon,  but  his  brothers  and  sisters  formed 
part  of  our  family.  I  shall  presently  speak  of  the  friend- 
ship which  arose  between  myself  and  Napoleon's  sisters, 
a  friendship  which  one  of  them  has  entirely  forgotten. 


AUTHOR'S   INTRODUCTION  5 

When  my  mother  quitted  Corsica  to  follow  my  father  to 
France,  the  friendly  relations  which  subsisted  between 
her  and  the  Bonaparte  family  suffered  no  change  by 
absence  or  distance.  The  conduct  of  my  parents  toward 
Bonaparte,  the  father,  when  he  came  to  Montpellier  with 
his  son  and  his  brother-in-law,  to  die  far  from  his  coun- 
try and  all  that  was  dear  to  him,  should  never  be  for- 
gotten by  either  of  the  two  families.  It  should  be 
remembered  by  the  one  with  gratitude,  and  by  the  other 
with  that  feeling  of  satisfaction  which  the  performance 
of  a  good  action  creates. 

The  other  members  of  the  Bonaparte  family  were  also 
favorites  of  my  mother.  Lucien  found  in  her  more  than 
a  common  friend.  When  he  formed  that  strange  union 
with  Mademoiselle  Boyer  my  mother  received  his  wife 
as  her  own  daughter.  Of  our  intimacy  with  Madame 
Joseph  Bonaparte  and  Madame  Leclerc  the  details  of  which 
I  shall  enter  into  in  the  course  of  these  volumes  will 
afford  an  accurate  idea.  My  husband's  connection  with 
Bonaparte  commenced  with  the  siege  of  Toulon,  and  from 
that  time  they  continued  united  until  Junot's  death. 
Thus,  I  may  say  that,  without  having  been  always  near 
Bonaparte,  I  possessed  the  most  authentic  means  of  being 
accurately  informed  of  every  action,  private  or  public. 

It  will  be  understood  by  what  I  have  here  stated  that 
while  I  profess  to  be  the  only  person  who  perfectly  well 
knew  every  particularity  of  Napoleon,  it  is  not  mere  pre- 
sumption that  prompts  me  to  say  so;  the  details  which 
will  be  found  in  the  following  pages  I  derive  from  other 
sources  than  those  which  usually  feed  biographical 
sketches. 

In  preparing  these  Memoirs  how  many  past  recollections 
have  revived!  How  many  dormant  griefs  have  awakened! 
In  spite  of  the  general  fidelity  of  my  memory,  I  occasion- 
ally met  with  dates  and  facts  the  remembrance  of  which, 
though  not  effaced,  had  faded  by  the  course  of  time. 
They  were  speedily  restored ;  but  I  must  confess  that  my 
task  has  been  a  laborious  and  painful  one;  and  nothing 
could  have  urged  me  forward  to  its  execution  but  the 
conviction  that  IT  MUST  BE  DONE.  It  may,  perhaps,  be 
alleged  that  I  could  have  answered  in  a  pamphlet  of  fifty 
pages  all  that  has  been  said  in  the  attacks  directed  from 
hostile  quarters  against  my  husband  and  myself.  I  at 


6  AUTHOR'S   INTRODUCTION 

first  thought  of  doing  so,  but  I  found  this  impracticable. 
In  taking  up  the  pen  my  object  was  to  make  a  complete, 
not  a  summary,  refutation  of  the  untruths  that  have  been 
advanced.  This  could  not  be  done  in  a  few  lines.  It  is 
not  my  intention  to  criminate  anyone ;  I  shall  merely  state 
facts,  and  all  shall  be  supported  by  WRITTEN  evidence. 

The  autograph  documents  which  I  have  deposited  in 
the  hands  of  my  publisher  will  be  open  to  those  who  may 
wish  to  examine  them. 

Among  the  attacks  aimed  at  the  Due  d'Abrantes,  there 
is  one  of  a  very  absurd  nature.  The  assailant's  memory 
betrayed  him,  and  by  a  fortunate  chance  a  letter  in  his 
own  handwriting  falsifies  what  he  has  said  in  his  book: 
there  is,  perhaps,  nothing  more  venomous  than  the  sting 
of  ridicule. 

With  regard  to  what  concerns  me  and  my  family  in 
the  (<  Memorial  de  Sainte  He'lene*  I  conceive  myself  in  duty 
bound  to  reply  to  it.  I  have  always  viewed  as  the  height 
of  absurdity  that  pride  which  is  founded  on  an  origin 
more  or  less  illustrious.  But  if  that  pride  be  ridiculous, 
the  usurpation  of  a  great  name,  a  false  pretension  to 
noble  descent,  is  the  extreme  of  baseness.  Such  being 
my  opinion,  it  will  readily  be  conceived  that  I  am  not 
inclined  to  pass  over  in  silence  that  chapter  in  the 
<(  Memorial  de  Sainte  He'lene  *  which  treats  of  the  family  of 
my  mother.  My  grandfather  and  my  uncles,  far  from  set- 
ting up  false  claims  to  family  greatness,  wished,  on  the 
contrary,  to  extinguish  a  noble  name,  which,  when 
stripped  of  the  splendor  with  which  it  ought  to  be  sur- 
rounded, becomes  to  its  possessors  a  source  of  annoyance 
and  humiliation.  Such  was  the  intention  of  my  grand- 
father, the  last  privileged  chief  of  the  Greek  colony  in 
Italy,  a  shadow  of  sovereignty  and  a  toy  with  which  he 
wished  to  have  no  more  concern. 

He  had  but  one  daughter,  my  mother,  and  he  made 
her  promise  never  to  reassume  her  family  name,  a  vow 
which  I  am  sure  my  mother  would  have  religiously  kept 
to  this  day  had  she  lived.  My  grandfather  died  a  young 
man.  He  was  captain  of  cavalry  in  the  French  service 
{in  the  regiment  de  Valliere),  a  noble  Corsican  and  not 
a  FARMER,  as  the  <( Memorial  de  Sainte  HeTene*  asserts.  As 
to  obtaining  an  acknowledgment  of  the  dignity  of  the 
Comnena  family,  he  entertained  no  such  idea.  My  grand- 


AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION  7 

father  died  in  1768,  and  the  family  was  acknowledged  in 
1782;  the  letters  patent  are  dated  1783  and  1784. 

I  consider  the  publication  of  these  Memoirs  to  be  a 
duty  to  my  family,  and,  above  all,  to  the  memory  of  my 
husband.  Often  during  political  storms  a  veil  is  thrown 
over  some  part  of  an  illustrious  life:  the  arm  of  Junot, 
which  for  twenty-two  years  defended  his  country,  is  now 
in  the  grave,  and  cannot  now  remove  the  veil  with  which 
jealousy  and  envy  would  envelop  his  fame.  It  remains, 
therefore,  for  me,  the  mother  of  his  children,  to  fulfill 
that  sacred  duty,  and  to  furnish  the  materials  which  can 
permit  him  to  be  fairly  judged. 

LAURE  JUNOT. 


MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES 


CHAPTER   I. 

Place  and  Date  of  My  Birth  —  Calomeros  and  Bonaparte  —  My  Father's 
Departure  for  America  —  Intimacy  between  My  Mother  and 
Madame  Laetitia  —  Bonaparte's  Boyhood  —  The  Basket  of  Grapes 
and  the  Flogging  —  Saveria  and  the  Bonaparte  Family  —  My  Fa- 
ther's Return  —  My  Birth  and  My  Mother's  Illness. 

I    WAS  born    at    Montpellier    on    the    6th    of    November, 
1784.     My  family  was  then  temporarily  established  at 
Languedoc,  to  enable    my  father   the   more  easily  to 
exercise  the  duties   of  an   official    appointment  which   he 
had  obtained  on  his  return  from  America.      My  mother, 
like  myself,  was  born  beneath  the  tent  which  her  parents 
had  pitched  in  a  foreign  land.      From   the  shores  of  the 
Bosphorus  her  family  had  emigrated   to   the  solitudes    of 
the  Taygetes,  which   they  quitted   to   inhabit    the  moun- 
tains of  Corsica. 

When  Constantine  Comnenus  landed  in  Corsica  in  1676 
at  the  head  of  the  Greek  colony,  he  had  with  him  sev- 
eral sons,  one  of  whom  was  named  Calomeros.  This  son 
he  sent  to  Florence,  on  a  mission  to  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany.  Constantine  dying  before  the  return  of  his 
son,  the  Grand  Duke  prevailed  on  the  young  Greek 
to  renounce  Corsica  and  fix  his  abode  in  Tuscany.  After 
some  interval  of  time,  an  individual  named  Calomeros 
came  from  Italy  —  indeed,  from  Tuscany,  and  fixed  his 
abode  in  Corsica,  where  his  descendants  formed  the  fam- 
ily of  Buonaparte;  for  the  name  CALOMEROS,  literally  Ital- 
ianized, signified  buona  parte  or  bclla  partc*  The  only 
question  is,  whether  the  Calomeros  who  left  Corsica,  and 
the  Calomeros  who  came  there,  have  a  direct  filiation. 

*  Napoleon  omitted  the  «  in  Buonaparte  while  General-in-Chief  in 
May,  1796. 

(9) 


io  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Two  facts,  however,  are  certain,  namely,  the  departure  of 
the  one,  and  the  arrival  of  the  other. 

It  is  a  singular  circumstance  that  the  Comneni,  in 
speaking-  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  always  designate  them 
by  the  names  CALOMEROS,  CALOMERI,  or  CALOMERIANI,  ac- 
cording as  they  allude  to  one  individual  or  several  col- 
lectively. Both  families  were  united  by  the  most  intimate 
friendship. 

When  the  Greeks  were  obliged  to  abandon  Paomia  to 
escape  the  persecutions  of  the  insurgent  Corsicans,  they 
established  themselves  temporarily  in  towns  which  re- 
mained faithful  to  the  republic  of  Genoa.  When,  at  a 
subsequent  period,  Cargesa  was  granted  to  the  Greeks 
for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  new  establishment,  a  few 
Greek  families  continued  to  reside  at  Ajaccio.  Among 
these  was  the  family  of  the  privileged  chief;  and  my 
mother  lived  alternately  at  Ajaccio  and  Cargesa. 

At  this  time  she  contracted  a  friendship  with  Laetitia 
Ramolini,  the  mother  of  Napoleon.  They  were  about 
the  same  age,  and  both  extremely  beautiful.  Their 
beauty,  however,  was  of  so  different  a  character,  that  no 
feeling  of  jealousy  could  arise  between  them.  Madame 
Laetitia  Bonaparte  was  graceful  and  pretty;  but  without 
any  filial  vanity  I  may  truly  say  that  I  never  in  all  my 
life  saw  so  fine  a  woman  as  my  mother.  At  fourteen 
she  was  the  gayest  and  most  sprightly  young  girl  in  the 
whole  colony,  and  it  might  be  said  in  the  whole  island, 
but  for  Laetitia  Ramolini. 

Laetitia  was  indeed  a  handsome  woman.  Those  who 
knew  her  in  advanced  life  thought  her  countenance  some- 
what harsh;  but  that  expression,  instead  of  being  caused 
by  any  austerity  of  disposition,  seemed  on  the  contrary 
to  have  been  produced  by  timidity.  She  was  a  woman 
who  evinced  very  superior  qualities  in  all  the  circum- 
stances in  which  she  was  placed,  in  bad  as  well  as 
good  fortune.  Her  son  rendered  her  justice,  though 
somewhat  tardily.  He  himself  helped  to  keep  up  an  er- 
roneous opinion  respecting  her;  and  though  he  corrected 
it,  yet  the  impression  was  given  and  received 

Previously  to  entering  into  negotiation  with  the  Re- 
public of  Genoa,  France  supplied  troops  for  the  purpose 
of  reducing  the  Corsicans  to  obedience.  Among  the 
French  who  were  connected  with  the  army  there  was  a 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  u 

young  man  of  twenty,  possessing  an  agreeable  person. 
He  fenced  like  the  celebrated  Saint  George,  was  a 
delightful  performer  on  the  violin,  and  though  distin- 
guished by  the  elegant  manners  of  a  man  of  rank,  he 
was  nevertheless  only  a  commoner. 

He  had  said,  <(  I  will  risk  my  fortune,  and  will  advance 
•myself  in  the  world  * ;  and  he  had  said  it  with  that  sort 
of  determination  which  nothing  can  resist,  because  it 
overcomes  everything.  On  his  arrival  in  Corsica  he  had 
already  an  honorable  fortune  to  offer  to  the  lady  whom 
he  might  wish  to  make  his  wife.  He  fixed  his  choice  on 
the  pearl  of  the  island.  He  sought  and  obtained  the 
hand  of  my  mother.  This  gentleman  was  M.  de  Permon, 
my  father. 

My  parents  left  Corsica  and  came  to  France,  where  my 
father's  affairs  demanded  his  presence.  Some  years  after 
he  obtained  an  important  appointment  in  America,  whither 
"he  proceeded,  taking  with  him  my  brother,  then  only 
eight  years  of  age.  My  mother,  with  the  rest  of  her 
young  family,  repaired  to  Corsica,  to  reside  with  my 
grandmother,  until  my  father's  return.  This  was  before 
my  birth.  It  was  on  my  mother's  return  to  Corsica  that 
she  first  saw  Napoleon.  He  was  then  a  child,  and  she 
has  often  carried  him  in  her  arms.  He  was  the  playmate 
of  an  elder  sister  of  mine,  who  died  a  melancholy  death. 
Napoleon  recollected  her  perfectly,  and  used  to  speak  of 
her  after  he  came  to  Paris. 

He  was  fond  of  conversing  about  Corsica,  and  often, 
after  having  dined  at  our  family  table,  he  would  sit 
before  the  fireplace,  his  arms  crossed  before  him,  and 
would  say:  <(  Come,  Signora  Panoria,  let  us  talk  about 
Corsica  and  Signora  Laetitia."  This  was  the  name  he 
always  gave  his  mother  when  he  was  speaking  of  her  to 
persons  with  whom  he  was  intimate.  (<  How  is  Signora 
Laetitia  ? w  he  used  to  say  to  me  —  or,  when  addressing 
her,  he  would  say:  "Well,  Signora  Laetitia,  how  do  you 
like  the  Court?  You  do  not  like  it,  I  see.  That  is 
because  you  do  not  receive  company  enough.  I  have 
given  you  a  handsome  palace,  a  fine  estate,  and  a  million 
a  year,  and  yet  you  live  like  a  citizen's  wife  of  the  Rue 
Saint  Denis.  Come,  come,  you  must  see  more  company; 

but    company    of    another    kind     from    the    C s    and 

Cl de s.» 


12  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

My  mother  and  my  uncles  have  a  thousand  times 
assured  me  that  Napoleon  in  his  boyhood  had  none  of 
that  singularity  of  character  which  has  often  been 
attributed  to  him.  He  had  good  health,  and  was  in  other 
respects  like  other  boys. 

Madame  Bonaparte  had  brought  with  her  to  France  a 
nurse  named  Saveria.  It  was  curious  to  hear  this 
woman  speak  of  the  family  she  had  brought  up,  each 
member  of  which  was  seated  on  a  throne.  She  related 
a  number  of  curious  anecdotes  respecting  them,  and  I 
used  to  be  very  fond  of  conversing  with  her.  I  observed 
that  she  was  less  attached  to  some  members  of  the 
family  than  to  others,  and  I  asked  her  the  reason  of 
this.  As  I  know  not  whether  she  may  yet  be  living, 
I  will  say  nothing  to  compromise  her  with  persons  to 
whom  her  preference  might  be  offensive.  All  I  shall  say 
is,  that  she  adored  the  Emperor  and  Lucien. 

She  one  day  described  to  me  several  little  scenes  con- 
nected with  the  boyhood  of  Napoleon,  who  remained  in 
Corsica  until  he  was  nine  years  of  age;  and  she  con- 
firmed to  me  one  fact,  which  I  had  frequently  heard 
from  his  mother,  viz,  that  when  he  was  reprimanded 
for  any  fault  he  seldom  cried.  In  Corsica,  the  prac- 
tice of  beating  children  is  common  in  all  classes  of  so- 
ciety. When  Napoleon  happened  to  be  beaten,  he  would 
sometimes  shed  a  few  tears,  but  they  were  soon  over ;  and 
he  would  never  utter  a  word  in  the  way  of  begging  pardon. 
On  this  subject,  I  will  relate  an  anecdote  which  I  heard 
from  himself.  He  told  it  me  to  give  me  an  example  of 
moderation. 

He  was  one  day  accused  by  one  of  his  sisters  of  hav- 
ing eaten  a  basketful  of  grapes,  figs,  and  citrons,  which 
had  come  from  the  garden  of  HIS  UNCLE  THE  CANON. 
None  but  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  Bonaparte 
family  can  form  any  idea  of  the  enormity  of  this  offense. 
To  eat  fruit  belonging  to  the  UNCLE  THE  CANON  was  in- 
finitely more  criminal  than  to  eat  grapes  and  figs  which 
might  be  claimed  by  anybody  else. 

An  inquiry  took  place.  Napoleon  denied  the  fact,  and 
was  whipped.  He  was  told  that  if  he  would  beg  par- 
don he  should  be  forgiven.  He  protested  that  he  was 
innocent,  but  he  was  not  believed.  If  I  recollect  rightly, 
his  mother  was  at  the  time  on  a  visit  to  M.  de  Marbeuf, 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  13 

or  some  other  friend.  The  result  of  Napoleon's  obsti- 
nacy was  that  he  was  kept  three  whole  days  upon  bread 
and  cheese,  and  that  cheese  was  not  broccio*  However, 
he  would  not  cry;  he  was  dull,  but  not  sulky. 

At  length  on  the  fourth  day  of  his  punishment,  a  little 
friend  of  Marianne  Bonaparte  returned  from  the  country, 
and  on  hearing  of  Napoleon's  disgrace  she  confessed  that 
she  and  Marianne  had  eaten  the  fruit.  It  was  now 
Marianne's  turn  to  be  punished.  When  Napoleon  was 
asked  why  he  had  not  accused  his  sister,  he  replied  that 
though  he  suspected  that  she  was  guilty,  yet  out  of  con- 
sideration to  her  little  friend,  who  had  no  share  in  the 
falsehood,  he  had  said  nothing.  He  was  then  only  seven 
years  of  age. 

This  fact,  which  would  have  been  nothing  extraordinary 
in  any  other  child,  appeared  to  me  worthy  of  a  place 
among  recollections  which  are  connected  with  the  whole 
life  of  Napoleon.  It  is  somewhat  characteristic  of  THE 
MAN.  I  ought  to  add  that  the  affair  was  never  forgotten 
by  Napoleon.  Of  this  I  observed  a  proof  in  1801,  at  a 
fete  given  by  Madame  Bacciochi  (formerly  Marianne 
Bonaparte)  at  Neuilly,  where  she  resided  with  Lucien. 

The  nurse  Saveria  told  me  that  Napoleon  was  never  a 
pretty  boy,  as  Joseph  had  been ;  his  head  always  appeared 
too  large  for  his  body,  a  defect  common  to  the  Bonaparte 
family.  When  Napoleon  grew  up,  the  peculiar  charm  of 
his  countenance  lay  in  his  eyes,  especially  in  the  mild  ex- 
pression they  assumed  in  his  moments  of  kindness.  His 
anger,  to  be  sure,  was  frightful,  and  though  I  am  no 
coward,  I  never  could  look  at  him  in  his  fits  of  rage 
without  shuddering.  Though  his  smile  was  captivating, 
yet  the  expression  of  his  mouth  when  disdainful  or  angry 
could  scarcely  be  seen  without  terror. 

But  of  that  forehead  which  seemed  formed  to  bear  the 
crowns  of  a  whole  world ;  those  hands,  of  which  the  most 
coquettish  women  might  have  been  vain,  and  whose  white 
skin  covered  muscles  of  iron;  in  short,  of  all  that  personal 
beauty  which  distinguished  Napoleon  as  a  young  man,  no 
traces  were  discernible  in  the  boy.  Saveria  spoke  truly 
when  she  said  that  of  all  the  children  of  Signora  Laetitia, 
the  Emperor  was  the  one  from  whom  future  greatness 
was  least  to  be  prognosticated. 

*  A  favorite  kind  of  cheese  in  Corsica. 


14  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

During  her  residence  at  Ajaccio  my  mother  renewed 
her  intimacy  with  her  friend  Laetitia  and  her  children. 
Napoleon  was  then  in  France.  On  her  return  thither 
my  mother  promised  her  good  offices  in  favor  of  the 
young  Corsican  if  he  should  be  in  want  of  friends  at 
such  a  distance  from  his  family.  A  coldness  subsisted 
between  M.  Charles  Bonaparte  and  my  mother's  family, 
from  what  cause  I  know  not:  however,  that  is  a  matter 
of  very  little  importance. 

At  the  close  of  the  American  war  my  father  returned 
to  his  country,  where  he  purchased  the  situation  of  re- 
ceiver-general of  departmental  taxes.  The  duties  of  this 
situation  caused  him  to  fix  his  abode  temporarily  at 
Montpellier,  and  an  event  which  had  well-nigh  been  at- 
tended with  fatal  consequences  detained  him  there  far 
beyond  the  period  he  had  fixed  upon.  My  mother  was 
at  that  time  pregnant  with  me.  She  was  in  perfect 
health,  and  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  that  her 
delivery  would  be  attended  with  a  favorable  result.  On 
the  6th  of  November,  after  having  supped  with  Madame 
de  Moncan,  the  wife  of  the  second  commandant  of  the 
province,  she  returned  home  quite  well  and  in  excellent 
spirits.  At  one  o'clock  she  retired  to  bed,  and  at  two 
she  was  delivered  of  a  daughter.  Next  morning  it  was 
discovered  that  her  right  side  and  part  of  her  left  were 
struck  with  paralysis. 

The  physicians  of  Montpellier,  a  town  then  celebrated 
for  medical  science,  prescribed  for  her  in  vain.  They 
could  neither  relieve  her  disease  nor  discover  its  cause. 
My  poor  mother  spent  three  months  in  agony:  she  was 
scarcely  able  to  articulate.  At  length  she  was  cured, 
and  her  cure  was  no  less  extraordinary  than  her  illness. 

A  countryman  who  brought  fruit  and  vegetables  for 
sale  to  the  house  one  day  saw  the  female  servants  weep- 
ing in  great  distress.  He  inquired  the  cause,  and  was 
informed  of  the  situation  of  my  mother.  He  requested 
to  be  conducted  to  my  father.  <(  I  ask  for  no  reward, M 
said  he,  (<  but  from  what  I  have  heard  from  your  serv- 
ants I  think  I  know  the  nature  of  your  lady's  illness, 
and  if  you  will  permit  me  I  will  cure  her  in  a  week." 

My  father  was  at  that  moment  plunged  in  the  deepest 
despair'  for  he  had  that  very  morning  heard  from  the 
physicians  that  my  mother  was  in  great  danger,  and 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  15 

they  afforded  him  no  hope  of  her  recovery.  In  that  hour 
of  anguish  he  very  naturally  seized  at  anything  which 
could  afford  the  slightest  chance. 

"  What  effect  does  your  remedy  produce?  M  said  he  to 
the  countryman.  The  man  replied  that  it  was  topical, 
and,  therefore,  unattended  by  any  danger  to  the  organs 
of  life;  but  he  admitted  that  its  application  would  be  at- 
tended with  the  most  excruciating  pain.  My  father  sum- 
moned the  doctors  who  were  in  attendance  on  my  mother. 
All  were  men  of  acknowledged  talent.  (<  Nature  is  un- 
bounded in  her  benefits, })  said  M.  Barthes;  "how  do  we 
know  what  she  may  have  in  reserve  through  the  hands 
of  this  man?  Let  him  try  his  remedy. }>  My  mother  was 
asked  whether  she  felt  sufficient  strength  to  undergo  an 
increase  of  pain.  She  declared  she  would  submit  to  any- 
thing. She  had  already  relinquished  all  hope  of  life. 

The  countryman  asked  permission  to  return  home. 
His  village  was  not  far  off,  and  he  promised  to  return 
next  morning.  My  father  was  alarmed  when  he  heard 
that  the  man  came  from  Saint  Gilles;*  but  the  man  ap- 
peared perfectly  sane.  His  preparations  were  rather 
methodical.  He  made  five  little  round  loaves  or  rolls: 
the  dough  was  compounded  by  himself.  The  efficient 
ingredients  were  of  herbs  which  he  gathered,  and  in 
which  consisted  his  secret.  He  boiled  these  herbs,  and 
with  their  juice  added  to  a  little  strong  beer,  and  mixed 
with  maize  flour,  he  made  a  dough,  which  he  baked  into 
loaves.  While  they  were  hot  from  the  oven  he  cut  them 
into  halves,  and  applied  them  to  the  part  affected. 

I  have  often  heard  my  mother  say  that  no  words  could 
convey  an  idea  of  the  painful  sensation  she  experienced, 
and  I  have  seen  her  turn  pale  at  the  recollection  of  it. 
This  torture  was  repeated  every  day  for  the  space  of  a 
week.  At  the  expiration  of  that  time  the  pain  ceased 
and  she  was  able  to  move  her  limbs.  A  month  after- 
ward my  mother  was  up  and  in  her  balcony. 

It  is  an  extraordinary  fact  that  during  her  illness  she 
had  lost  all  recollection  of  her  pregnancy  and  delivery. 
My  father  at  first  supposed  that  the  agonizing  pain  my 
mother  had  suffered  had  alienated  her  affection  from  the 

*A  village  near  Montpellier,  remarkable  for  the  prevalence  of  in- 
sanity among  its  inhabitants.  There  is  scarcely  a  house  in  the  place 
which  does  not  contain  a  padded  room. 


16  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME  JUNOT 

infant  to  whom  she  had  given  birth.  As  soon  as  he 
observed  my  mother's  indifference  toward  me  he  ordered 
the  nurse  to  keep  me  in  a  distant  part  of  the  house. 
His  affection  both  for  his  wife  and  child  dictated  this 
order,  for  my  mother  was  yet  in  too  weak  a  state  to 
bear  any  agitation  of  mind.  In  the  month  of  March, 
about  four  months  after  her  recovery,  my  mother  was 
seated  in  her  balcony  inhaling  the  balmy  freshness  of  a 
spring  day.  My  father  was  with  her,  and  they  were 
arranging  a  plan  for  spending  a  summer  which  should 
compensate  for  all  her  recent  sufferings.  They  pro- 
posed going  to  Bagneres.  In  the  midst  of  their  conver- 
sation she  suddenly  shrieked,  and  with  one  hand  seizing 
my  father's  arm,  she  pointed  with  the  other  to  a  child 
which  a  nurse  was  carrying  in  the  street.  She  did  not 
know  that  it  was  her  own,  but  she  exclaimed,  <(  Charles, 
I  have  an  infant !  Where  is  it  ?  Is  not  that  my  child  ?  * 
My  brother,  who  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  has 
often  told  me  that  nothing  could  convey  an  idea  of  my 
mother's  joy  when  her  child  was  placed  in  her  arms. 
She  was  to  me  the  fondest  of  mothers.  She  insisted  on 
having  my  cradle  placed  beside  her  bed,  and  the  nurse 
slept  in  an  adjoining  chamber.  Every  morning  when  I 
awoke  she  pressed  me  to  her  bosom,  and  said,  <(  Oh,  my 
dear  child!  how  dearly  must  I  love  you  to  make  amends 
for  five  months'  banishment  from  your  mother's  heart!" 
My  beloved  parent  faithfully  kept  her  word. 


CHAPTER   II. 

My  Mother's  Drawing-room  —  The  Comtesse  de  Perigord  —  The 
Duchesse  de  Mailly  and  the  Prince  de  Chalais  —  Louis  XV.  and 
the  Comtesse  de  Perigord  —  The  Duchesse  de  Mailly  and  the 
Princesse  de  Lamballe  —  Bonaparte's  First  Arrival  in  Paris  —  His 
Intention  of  Presenting  a  Memorial  to  the  Minister  of  War  —  His 
Character  when  a  Young  Man. 

IN    1785    we    arrived    in    Paris.     My    mother    could    not 
reconcile  herself  to    a   country    life    were    it    ever    so 
agreeable,   and  my  father  was  equally    desirous  of  re- 
turning to  town.    He  had  long  wished  to  purchase  the  office 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  17 

of  one  of  the  farmers  of  public  revenue,  and  at  this 
very  juncture  M.  Rougeau  was  disposed  to  sell  his  situ- 
ation. Negotiations  were  immediately  opened  by  the 
friends  of  both  parties.  My  father  resolved  to  manage 
this  business  personally,  and  that  circumstance  deter- 
mined our  hasty  journey.  My  father  wished  to  see  a 
great  deal  of  company,  and,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
time,  set  a  day  of  the  week  apart  for  giving  dinner 
parties. 

My  mother  possessed  the  qualifications  of  an  agreeable 
hostess.  Her  good  temper  and  frankness  of  manner  made 
her  a  favorite  with  everybody:  she  united  to  beauty  of 
person,  grace,  tact,  and,  above  all,  a  natural  intelligence. 
She  was,  however,  exceedingly  deficient  in  education. 
She  used  to  say  she  had  never  read  but  one  book  (<(Te- 
lemachus  * ) ;  but,  in  spite  of  that,  those  who  had  once 
enjoyed  her  conversation  never  could  quit  her  society 
without  reluctance  and  regret.  How  many  poets  and  dis- 
tinguished literary  characters  have  I  seen  spellbound  by 
the  charm,  not  of  her  person,  but  of  her  manners! 

No  one  could  tell  a  story  with  more  piquant  originality. 
Often  have  my  brother  and  myself  sat  up  until  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning  listening  to  her.  But  what  par- 
ticularly marked  her  character  was  her  perfection  in  that 
most  difficult  art  of  presiding  in  her  drawing-room,  or, 
as  the  Emperor  used  to  style  it,  I'art  de  tenir  son 
salon. 

Of  the  friends  whom  my  mother  had  made  at  Mont- 
pellier  she  rejoined  one  at  Paris  with  great  satisfaction. 
This  was  the  Comte  de  Perigord,  the  uncle  of  M.  de 
Talleyrand,  and  the  brother  of  the  Archbishop  of  Rheims. 
He  was  Governor  of  the  States  of  Languedoc,  wore  the 
cordon  bleu,  and,  though  as  great  a  dignitary  as  one  could 
wish  to  see,  was  still  the  most  amiable  and  worthy  of 
men.  My  parents  knew  him  during  his  presidency,  and 
the  friendship  they  contracted  lasted  during  their  lives. 
His  children,  the  Duchesse  de  Mailly  and  the  Prince  de 
Chalais,  inherited  their  father's  excellent  disposition,  and 
after  his  death  they  gave  my  mother  proofs  of  their 
friendship  and  esteem. 

Of  the  Comte  de  Perigord  I  retain  the  most  perfect 
recollection.  He  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  children  are 
ever  grateful  for  attentions  bestowed  on  them.  I  remem- 

2 


1 8  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

ber  he  used  often  to  give  me  very  expensive  things;  but 
had  I  known  their  value,  which  I  did  not,  the  presents 
he  made  me  would  not  have  inspired  my  regard  for  him 
more  than  for  any  other  of  our  visitors,  all  of  whom 
were  in  the  habit  of  making  me  presents.  It  was  the 
notice  he  took  of  me,  his  readiness  to  praise  any  just 
or  smart  remark  I  made,  and  his  constant  desire  to  save 
me  from  reproof:  this  it  was  that  made  me  love  him.  I 
can  see  him  even  now  entering  the  spacious  drawing- 
room  of  the  hotel  we  occupied  on  the  Quai  Conti,  tread- 
ing cautiously  with  his  clubfoot,  leading  me  by  the  hand, 
for  no  sooner  was  his  name  announced  than  I  was  at  his 
side.  He,  on  his  part,  was  never  weary  of  my  company; 
on  the  contrary,  he  always  encouraged  my  prattle.  I 
loved  him,  and  regretted  his  loss. 

It  was  the  fate  of  his  wife,  the  Comtesse  de  Perigord, 
to  attract  the  notice  of  Louis  XV.  This  degrading  dis- 
tinction could  not  but  be  repugnant  to  the  feelings  of  a 
virtuous  woman,  and  the  Comtesse  de  Perigord  saw  in  it 
nothing  but  an  insult.  She  silently  withdrew  herself 
from  Court  before  the  King  offered  to  name  her  his 
favorite.  On  her  return  the  King's  attentions  were  fixed 
on  a  new  object,  and  the  virtue  of  Madame  de  Perigord 
was  all  that  dwelt  upon  the  memory  of  the  monarch. 

The  Comtesse's  daughter,  the  Duchesse  de  Mailly,  the 
lady  in  waiting  and  cherished  friend  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
died  young.  The  Queen  was  strongly  attached  to  her. 
She  used  to  call  her  ma  grande*  However,  notwith- 
standing this  attachment,  Madame  de  Mailly's  feelings 
received  a  wound  sufficiently  severe.  This  was  about  the 
period  of  the  rise  of  the  Princesse  de  Lamballe,  and 
many  circumstances  combined  to  mortify  Madame  de 
Mailly.  She  was,  moreover,  in  a  bad  state  of  health, 
and  gave  in  her  resignation. 

Her  brother,  the  Prince  de  Chalais,  was  a  nobleman  in 
the  literal  signification  of  the  term.  He  was  a  man  of 
the  most  scrupulous  honor,  and  a  most  rigid  observer  of 
all  the  forms  which  belonged  to  his  rank.  When  a  mere 
youth  he  was  remarked  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XVI.  as 
one  who  was  likely  to  distinguish  himself  in  after  years. 
On  his  return  from  emigration,  when  I  saw  him  at  my 

*  The  Duchesse  de  Mailly  was  very  tall.  She  measured  five  feet 
four  inches  (French  measure)  without  her  high-heeled  shoes. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  19 

mother's  I  could  easily  discern  that  all  I  had  heard  of 
his  excellent  character  was  correct. 

The  Comte  de  Perigord  foresaw  early  the  misfortunes 
which  befell  the  King,  and  consequently  France.  He 
was  an  enemy  to  emigration,  and  used  to  say  that  the 
proper  place  for  men  of  his  order  was  always  near  the 
throne:  in  peace  to  adorn  it,  and  in  times  of  trouble  to 
defend  it.  The  refugees  at  Worms  and  Coblentz  could 
not  seduce  him  from  the  path  which  he  considered  it  his 
duty  to  pursue.  The  unfortunate  gentleman  nearly  be- 
came the  victim  of  his  resolution. 

One  of  my  mother's  first  cares  on  arriving  in  Paris  was 
to  inquire  after  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  He  was  at  that 
time  in  the  Military  School  of  Paris,  having  quitted 
Brienne  in  the  September  of  the  preceding  year.  My 
uncle  Demetrius  had  met  him  just  after  he  alighted  from 
the  coach  which  brought  him  to  town ;  (<  And  truly, w  said 
my  uncle,  <c  he  had  the  appearance  of  a  fresh  importa- 
tion. I  met  him  in  the  Palais  Royal,  where  he  was  gap- 
ing and  staring  with  wonder  at  everything  he  saw.  He 
would  have  been  an  excellent  subject  for  sharpers,  if, 
indeed,  he  had  had  anything  worth  taking !  M 

My  uncle  invited  him  to  dine  at  his  house ;  for  though 
he  was  a  bachelor,  he  did  not  choose  to  dine  at  a  coffee- 
house. He  told  my  mother  that  Napoleon  was  very 
morose.  <(  I  fear,"  added  he,  (<  that  that  young  man  has 
more  self-conceit  than  is  suitable  to  his  condition.  When 
he  dined  with  me  he  began  to  declaim  violently  against 
the  luxury  of  the  young  men  of  the  Military  School. 
After  a  little  he  turned  the  conversation  upon  Manea,  and 
the  present  education  of  the  young  Maniotes,  drawing  a 
comparison  between  it  and  the  ancient  Spartan  system 
of  education.  His  observations  on  this  head  he  told  me 
he  intended  to  embody  in  a  memorial  to  be  presented  to 
the  Minister  of  War.  All  this,  depend  upon  it,  will 
bring  him  under  the  displeasure  of  his  comrades,  and  it 
will  be  lucky  if  he  escape  being  run  through. M 

A  few  days  afterward  my  mother  saw  Napoleon,  and 
then  his  irritability  was  at  its  height.  He  would  scarcely 
bear  any  observations,  even  if  made  in  his  favor,  and  I 
am  convinced  that  it  is  to  this  uncontrollable  irritability 
that  he  owed  the  reputation  of  having  been  ill-tempered 
in  his  boyhood  and  splenetic  in  his  youth. 


20  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

My  father,  who  was  acquainted  with  almost  all  the 
heads  of  the  Military  School,  obtained  leave  for  him 
sometimes  to  come  out  for  recreation.  On  account  of  an 
accident  (a  sprain,  if  I  recollect  right),  Napoleon  once 
spent  a  whole  week  at  our  house.  To  this  day,  whenever 
I  pass  the  Quai  Conti,  I  cannot  help  looking  up  at  a 
garret  window  at  the  left  angle  of  the  house  on  the  third 
floor.  That  was  Napoleon's  chamber  when  he  paid  us  a 
visit,  and  a  neat  little  room  it  was.  My  brother  used  to 
occupy  the  one  next  to  it.  The  two  young  men  were 
nearly  of  the  same  age;  my  brother,  perhaps,  had  the 
advantage  of  a  year  or  fifteen  months.  My  mother  had 
recommended  him  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of  young 
Bonaparte,  but  my  brother  complained  how  unpleasant 
it  was  to  find  only  cold  politeness  where  he  expected 
affection. 

This  repulsiveness  on  the  part  of  Napoleon  was  almost 
offensive,  and  must  have  been  sensibly  felt  by  my  brother, 
who  was  not  only  remarkable  for  the  mildness  of  his 
temper  and  the  amenity  and  grace  of  his  manner,  but 
whose  society  was  courted  in  the  most  distinguished  cir- 
cles of  Paris  on  account  of  his  talents.  He  perceived  in 
Bonaparte  a  kind  of  acerbity  and  bitter  irony,  of  which 
he  long  endeavored  to  discover  the  cause. 

(<  I  believe, w  said  Albert  one  day  to  my  mother,  (<that 
the  poor  young  man  feels  keenly  his  dependent  situa- 
tion. w  <(  But, }>  exclaimed  my  mother,  <(  his  situation  is 
not  dependent ;  and  I  trust  you  have  not  made  him  feel 
that  he  is  not  quite  at  home  while  he  stays  here. w 

*  Albert  is  not  wrong  in  this  matter, w  said  my  father, 
who  happened  to  be  present.  (<  Napoleon  suffers  on  ac- 
count of  his  pride,  but  it  is  pride  not  to  be  censured. 
He  knows  you;  he  knows,  too,  that  your  family  and  his 
are  in  Corsica  equal  with  regard  to  fortune.  He  is  the 
son  of  Laetitia  Bonaparte,  and  Albert  is  yours.  I  be- 
lieve that  you  are  even  related;  now  he  cannot  easily 
reconcile  all  this  with  the  difference  in  the  education  he 
receives  gratis  in  the  Military  School,  separated  from  his 
family,  and  deprived  of  those  attentions  which  he  sees 
here  lavishly  bestowed  upon  our  children. w 

w  But  you  are  describing  envy,  not  pride, w  replied  my 
mother. 

<(  No,  there  is  a  great  difference  between  envy  and  the 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  21 

feelings  by  which  this  young  man  is  disturbed;  and  I 
fancy  I  know  the  human  heart  well  enough  to  under- 
stand the  workings  of  his.  He  suffers,  and  perhaps  more 
keenly  in  our  house  than  elsewhere.  You  are  warm- 
hearted, but  you  cannot  comprehend  how  misplaced  kind- 
ness may  sometimes  fail  to  effect  a  cure.  When  you 
wished  to  make  use  of  the  credit  of  M.  de  Falgueyreytes  to 
obtain  leave  of  absence  for  Napoleon  for  more  than  a  day 
or  two,  I  told  you  you  were  doing  wrong.  You  would 
not  listen  to  me.  The  warmth  of  your  friendship  for 
the  mother  has  caused  you  to  place  the  son  in  a  con- 
tinually painful  situation;  for  painful  it  must  be,  since 
the  reflection  will  recur  to  him:  Why  is  not  my  family 
situated  like  this?" 

(<  Absurd !  w  cried  my  mother ;  (<  to  reason  thus  would 
be  both  foolish  and  wicked  in  him. w 

<(  He  would  be  neither  more  foolish  nor  more  wicked 
than  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  is  but  feeling  like  a  man. 
What  is  the  reason  he  has  been  in  a  constant  state  of 
ill  humor  since  his  arrival  here  ?  Why  does  he  so  loudly 
declaim  against  the  INDECENT  LUXURY  (to  use  his  own 
words )  of  all  his  comrades  ?  Why  ?  because  he  is  every 
moment  making  a  comparison  between  their  situation 
and  his  own!  He  thinks  it  ridiculous  that  these  young 
men  should  keep  servants  when  he  has  none.  He  finds 
fault  with  two  courses  at  dinner,  because,  when  they 
have  their  PICNICS,  he  is  unable  to  contribute  his  share. 
The  other  day  I  was  told  by  Dumarsay,  the  father  of 
one  of  his  comrades,  that  it  was  in  contemplation  to 
give  one  of  the  masters  a  d/Jeunert  and  that  each  scholar 
would  be  expected  to  contribute  a  sum  certainly  too 
large  for  such  boys.  Napoleon's  censure  is  so  far  just. 
Well !  I  saw  him  this  morning,  and  found  him  more  than 
usually  gloomy.  I  guessed  the  reason,  and  broke  the  ice 
at  once  by  offering  him  the  small  sum  he  wanted  for 
the  occasion.  He  colored  deeply,  but  presently  his 
countenance  resumed  its  usual  pale  yellow  hue.  He 
refused  my  offer. w 

tt  That  was  because  you  did  not  make  it  with  sufficient 
delicacy, J>  cried  my  mother.  "You  men  are  always  such 
bunglers !  w 

<(When  I  saw  the  young  man  so  unhappy, w  continued 
my  father,  without  being  disconcerted  by  my  mother's 


22  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

warmth  of  manner,  to  which  he  was  accustomed,  (<  I  in- 
vented an  untruth,  which  heaven  will  doubtless  pardon. 
I  told  him  that,  before  his  father  expired  in  our  arms 
at  Montpellier,  he  gave  me  a  small  sum  to  be  applied  to 
the  wants  of  his  son  in  cases  of  emergency.  Napoleon 
looked  at  me  steadfastly,  with  so  scrutinizing  a  gaze  that 
he  almost  intimidated  me.  (  Since  this  money  comes  from 
my  father,  sir,'  said  he,  'I  accept  it;  but  had  it  been  a 
loan  I  could  not  have  received  it.  My  mother  has  al- 
ready too  many  burdens,  and  I  must  not  increase  them 
by  expenses  beyond  my  means,  particularly  when  they 
are  imposed  upon  me  by  the  stupid  folly  of  my  com- 
rades. *  You  see  then,  *  continued  my  father,  (<  if  his 
pride  is  so  easily  wounded  at  the  school  by  strangers, 
what  must  he  not  suffer  here,  whatever  tenderness  we 
may  show  him  ?  Albert  must  not  be  less  kind  and  at- 
tentive to  him;  although  I  very  much  doubt  whether  it 
will  lead  to  any  mutual  friendship. w 


CHAPTER   III. 

Death  of  Bonaparte's  Father  in  My  Mother's  House  —  Joseph  Bona- 
parte and  M.  Fesch — Removal  of  My  Family  to  Paris  —  M.  de 
Saint  Priest,  M.  Seguier,  and  M.  Duvidal  de  Montferrier  —  Madame 
de  Lamarliere  —  A  Wedding  Feast  at  Robespierre's  —  The  Queen  at 
the  Conciergerie  and  Madame  Richard  —  MM.  d'Aigrefeuille  and 
Cambaceres. 

I   MUST  now  recur  to  some  events  previous  to  those    de- 
tailed  in   my  last  chapter;    for  this   little  disarrange- 
ment of  dates  I  trust  the  reader  will  pardon  me. 
While  we  were  residing  at    Montpellier,  my  father,  on 
returning  home  one  day,  told  my  mother  a  curious  piece 
of  news.     He  said  he  had  just  heard  that  three  Corsicans 
had  arrived  at  a  miserable  inn  in  the  town,  and  that  one 
of  them  was  very  ill. 

<(Is  it  possible?  w  exclaimed  my  mother  with  her  usual 
animation  of  manner.  <(  Go  and  inquire,  I  beg  of  you ! 
How  can  you  come  and  tell  me  that  one  of  my  country- 
men is  ill  at  an  inn  in  Montpellier?  Charles,  this  is  un- 
kind in  you."  With  these  words  my  mother  almost 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  23 

forced  my  father  out  of  the  house.  On  his  return  she 
learned  with  mingled  feelings  of  grief  and  joy  that  her 
sick  countryman,  for  whom  she  had  felt  interested  while 
he  was  unknown  to  her,  was  no  other  than  the  husband 
of  Laetitia  Ramolini. 

« He  is  very  ill, "  said  my  father,  *  and  I  think  he 
cannot  be  well  attended  where  he  is.  We  must  get  him 
removed  to  a  private  house." 

w  My  dear, M  observed  my  mother,  w  recollect  how  much 
you  suffered  when  you  fell  ill  at  Philadelphia,  with  no 
one  to  attend  you  but  servants  and  a  boy  of  nine  years 
old.  It  is  our  duty  to  save  our  friends  from  such  mis- 
ery. }>  My  father  did  not  like  the  Corsicans.  He  was 
willing  to  show  M.  Bonaparte  all  the  attention  which  his 
situation  demanded,  but  it  required  all  the  influence  of 
my  mother  to  induce  him  to  receive  the  invalids  into 
his  house. 

Some  of  the  numerous  friends  we  had  at  Montpellier, 
many  of  whom  are  still  living,  have  often  described  to 
me  the  praiseworthy  conduct  of  my  mother  on  that 
occasion.  She  was  young,  beautiful,  and  rich,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  circle  of  admiring  friends  and  yet  she  was 
seldom  from  the  bedside  of  the  sick  stranger.  All  that 
fortune  could  procure  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  a 
protracted  illness  was  furnished  by  my  parents  with  a 
delicacy  which  concealed  from  the  invalid  and  his  rela- 
tions the  difficulty  which  was  frequently  experienced  in 
gratifying  the  capricious  wishes  of  a  dying  man. 

I  say  nothing  of  pecuniary  sacrifices;  but  kindness  of 
heart  certainly  deserves  gratitude.  My  mother  was  at 
M.  Bonaparte's  bedside  when  he  breathed  his  last,  like 
an  angel  sent  from  heaven  to  soothe  his  dying  moments. 
He  strongly  recommended  to  her  his  young  son  Napo- 
leon, who  had  just  left  Brienne  and  entered  the  Military 
School  at  Paris.* 

My  mother  did  not  confine  herself  to  her  pious  atten- 
tion to  the  husband  of  her  friend.  Joseph  Bonaparte 
and  his  uncle  Fesch  received  from  her  and  my  father 
all  the  consolation  which  friendship  can  offer  to  an  af- 
flicted heart;  and  when  they  departed  for  Corsica,  every- 
thing that  could  contribute  to  the  comfort  of  their  journey 
was  provided  by  my  father.  I  have  seen  Joseph  Bona- 

*  Napoleon  left  Brienne  on  the  i4th  of  October,  1784. 


24  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

parte  often  since  that  time,  and  he  constantly  alluded  to 
the  infinite  obligations  he  lay  under  to  my  family. 

Excellent  man!  For  King  Joseph  I  always  entertained 
a  high  respect.  The  world  has  been  unjust  to  him  as 
well  as  to  other  members  of  his  family,  because  he  had 
been  guilty  of  some  venial  faults  which  would  have  been 
passed  over  in  the  chivalrous  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  ap- 
plauded in  the  profligate  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  and  toler- 
ated in  the  degenerate  reign  of  Louis  XVI.  But  he 
laid  his  conduct  open  to  censure.  And  in  what  place  ? 
In  Spain.  And  why  ?  Because,  perhaps,  the  mistress  of 
the  Grand  Inquisitor  became  his  favorite.  Joseph  Bona- 
parte left  Montpellier  with  his  uncle,  who  was  about  his 
own  age,  if,  indeed,  he  was  not  something  younger. 

My  parents  removed  from  Languedoc  to  Paris.  They 
left  Montpellier  with  regret,  for  they  left  behind  them 
many  beloved  friends.  Death,  however,  deprived  them 
of  several  in  one  year.  One  of  these  was  M.  de  Saint 
Priest,  Intendant  of  Languedoc,  a  man  universally  be- 
loved and  esteemed.  Another  loss  no  less  profoundly 
felt  by  my  father  was  that  of  M.  Seguier,  of  Nismes. 

In  one  of  those  daily  excursions  which  he  made  either 
to  Narbonne  or  to  the  environs  of  Montpellier,  my  father 
met  M.  de  Seguier  while  he  was  botanizing  near  the 
ruins  of  the  temple  of  Diana.  My  father  had  a  great 
taste  for  botany,  and  they  soon  became  friends.  He  used 
to  speak  to  him  of  the  mountains  of  Corsica,  where  he 
had  often  lost  himself  while  searching  for  plants,  and  of 
the  botanical  curiosities  which  those  regions  contain.  M. 
de  Seguier  wished  to  make  a  journey  thither;  but  my 
father  wrote  to  one  of  his  cousins,  who,  like  himself,  was 
a  botanist,  and  the  plants  were  transmitted  to  France  in 
all  their  pristine  freshness.  My  father  used  often  to  go 
from  Montpellier  to  Nismes,  where  he  invariably  found 
M.  de  Seguier  either  engaged  in  his  favorite  science  or 
in  antiquarian  researches.  He  died  of  apoplexy  at  an 
advanced  age  on  the  ist  of  September,  1784. 

In  the  following  year  the  province  of  Languedoc  had 
to  regret  the  death  of  its  Syndic  General,  the  Marquis 
de  Montferrier,  a  distinguished  friend  of  art  and  science, 
to  whom  the  province  of  Languedoc  is  indebted  for  many 
of  its  noblest  monuments,  particularly  the  construction  of 
the  new  Pont  du  Garde. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  25 

These  three  men  were  the  particular  friends  of  my 
father  or  mother,  and,  being  my  countrymen,  they  have 
a  right  to  this  feeble  tribute  of  my  respect  in  a  work  in 
which  my  recollections  are  the  only  annals  I  consult.  I 
have  now  to  notice  another  friend  of  my  family,  whom 
I  cannot  pass  by  without  a  brief  description. 

At  Saint  Roch,  near  the  third  pillar  of  the  Chapel  of 
the  Virgin,  on  the  left  as  you  enter  by  the  grand  portal, 
a  lady  may  be  seen  dressed  in  black,  or  in  silk  of  a 
dark  color.  On  her  head  she  always  wears  a  very  large 
bonnet  of  black  gros-de-naples,  over  which  is  a  green 
veil.  The  children  call  her  *  the  lady  with  the  green 
veil,"  and  the  poor  give  her  the  name  of  *  the  good 
lady."  When  she  enters  the  chapel  it  is  easy  to  perceive 
that  she  is  familiar  with  the  house  of  God.  The  beadle, 
the  assistant,  and  the  sacristan  respectfully  make  their 
obeisance  to  her. 

Formerly  she  used  to  bring  several  prayer  books  with 
her,  but  now  she  prays  without  a  book,  for  she  cannot 
see;  but  she  does  not  pray  with  the  less  fervor.  Some- 
times she  joins  in  the  sacred  choir,  and  then  those  who 
are  placed  near  her  hear  the  clear  and  silvery  voice  of 
a  young  girl  singing  to  the  glory  of  heaven.  The  pro- 
jecting brim  of  her  bonnet  conceals  the  face,  but  two 
small  white  hands  counting  the  beads  of  a  rosary  reveal 
to  the  curious  observer  that  she  who  prays  so  devoutly 
must  be  of  the  higher  class. 

<(  Who  is  she  ? rt  inquire  the  surrounding  observers. 
<(  Is  she  young  ? })  At  length  she  rises  to  depart.  Her 
head,  which  has  hitherto  been  inclined  downward,  once 
more  salutes  the  tabernacle.  Then,  beneath  her  large 
bonnet,  is  perceived  a  countenance  which  must  once 
have  been  beautiful,  and  which  even  retains  beauty  at 
the  age  of  seventy-four  and  after  a  life  of  suffering. 
She  looks  calm  and  resigned,  and  it  is  evident  that  her 
hope  is  not  in  this  world.  I  called  her  (<  Mamma, w  for 
she  was  present  at  my  birth.  She  loved  me  tenderly, 
and  I  cherished  for  her  the  affection  of  a  daughter. 

The  Comtesse  de  Lamarliere  (for  that  is  her  real  name) 
was  the  companion  and  friend  of  Madame  de  Provence, 
as  well  as  of  the  Comtesse  d'Artois.  She  therefore  had 
the  opportunity  of  seeing  and  hearing  a  great  deal  that 
was  interesting  and  extraordinary;  and  she  related  a 


26          MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

multitude  of  anecdotes  with  a  grace  and  animation 
scarcely  to  be  expected  in  one  of  her  advanced  age. 

When  Madame  quitted  France,  the  Comtesse  ;de  Lamar- 
liere could  not  accompany  her,  much  as  she  wished  to  do 
so.  But  she  was  a  wife  and  a  mother,  and  to  those  ties 
she  was  obliged  to  sacrifice  the  sentiments  of  gratitude 
which  animated  her  heart.  She  remained  in  France  to 
suffer  persecution  and  misery.  She  saw  her  husband 
arrested  at  the  head  of  the  troops  he  commanded,  cast 
into  a  dungeon,  condemned  to  death,  and  conducted  to 
the  scaffold.  She  had  the  courage  to  implore  the  mercy 
of  him  who  never  knew  mercy:  she  threw  herself  even 
at  the  feet  of  Robespierre. 

Madame  de  Lamarliere  had  then  the  look  of  a  young 
woman,  a  complexion  of  dazzling  brilliancy,  a  profusion 
of  fair  hair,  fine  eyes  and  teeth,  could  not  fail  to  render 
her  exceedingly  attractive.  Her  beauty  was  perhaps 
rather  heightened  than  diminished  by  her  despair  when 
she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  Dictator,  and  with  a 
faltering  voice  implored  the  pardon  of  the  father  of  her 
child.  But  the  axe  was  in  the  hand  of  the  executioner, 
and  amidst  a  nuptial  festival*  Robespierre  pronounced 
the  sentence  which  made  her  a  widow  and  her  child  an 
orphan. 

During  the  examinations  preparatory  to  his  trial,  M. 
de  Lamarliere  was  confined  in  the  Conciergerie.  The 
Queen  was  there  before  him.  Madame  de  Lamarliere 
had  permission  to  go  to  the  prison  to  visit  her  husband, 
and  to  take  him  anything  which  might  comfort  him 
in  his  captivity.  She  took  the  opportunity  of  conveying 
to  the  Queen  such  things  as  she  thought  would  be 
agreeable  to  her. 

Madame  Richard,  the  wife  of  the  head  concierge,  see- 
ing that  the  presents  thus  sent  were  articles  to  which 

*  Robespierre  that  day  gave  away  in  marriage  the  daughter  or  sister 
of  a  carpenter,  named  Duplay,  in  whose  house  he  lodged  in  the  Rue 
Saint  Honor6.  This  Duplay  was  the  president  of  the  jury  on  the  Queen's 
trial.  The  Comtesse  de  Lamarliere  arrived  before  the  hour  fixed  for 
the  marriage  ceremony,  and  she  was  obliged  to  wait  in  the  dining 
room,  where  the  table  was  laid  for  the  nuptial  feast.  Her  feelings  may 
easily  be  imagined !  However,  there  she  waited,  and  was  introduced  to 
the  carpenter's  wife,  and  I  believe  to  Barrere.  After  she  was  gone 
Robespierre  said :  «  That  woman  is  very  pretty  —  very  pretty  indeed ! » 
accompanying  the  observation  by  some  odious  remarks. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  27 

there  could  be  no  reasonable  objection,  humanely  lent 
herself  to  the  innocent  deception.* 

w  Did  you  tell  the  Queen  who  sent  the  presents  ?  "  said 
I  one  day  to  Madame  de  Lamarliere. 

"No,"  replied  she;  <(  why  should  I  have  informed  her?w 

*  To  receive  the  reward  of  your  generosity  by  a  grate- 
ful word  from  the  unfortunate  Princess." 

(<  Certainly  that  would  have  been  gratifying  to  me. 
But  I  was  then  unfortunate  myself,  and  I  was  actuated 
by  no  other  motive  than  that  of  alleviating  the  misery 
of  another.  However,"  she  added,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
(<  the  Queen  did  know  it,  and  she  addressed  to  me  a  few 
words  of  kind  remembrance."  I  often  broached  the 
subject,  but  I  never  could  get  further  than  this.  My 
poor  friend  was  like  a  person  grievously  wounded,  whom 
one  fears  to  touch,  even  to  dress  the  wound. 

Among  the  individuals  whom  my  parents  left  with 
regret  at  Montpellier  was  M.  d'Aigrefeuille,  President  of 
the  Cour  des  Comptes  of  that  town.  He  was  an  excellent 
man,  and  those  who  saw  him  merely  in  the  office  of 
Archchancellor  could  know  little  either  of  his  talents  or 
his  worth.  It  happened  that  he  supped  with  my  mother 
at  Madame  de  Moncan's  on  the  evening  before  I  was 
brought  into  the  world;  consequently  he  knew  precisely 
the  date  of  my  birth,  and  he  made  no  secret  of  this 
fact.  Whenever  I  dined  at  his  own  house,  or  met  him 
in  company,  he  used  constantly  to  repeat :  (<  On  the  6th 
of  November,  1784.  Come,  come,  you  cannot  conceal 
your  age  from  me. "  As  I  was  at  that  time  a  very  young 
woman,  I  was  not  much  annoyed  at  this  reminder. 

I  will  conclude  this  chapter  with  a  few  words  relative 
to  an  individual  who  has  played  a  conspicuous  part  on 
the  scene  of  life.  I  allude  to  Cambace'res.  He  was 
Counselor  of  the  Cour  des  Aides  at  Montpellier.  At 
that  time  he  was  a  mere  acquaintance  of  my  parents, 
and  he  subsequently  became  the  friend  of  Junot  and  my- 
self: whenever  I  solicited  his  assistance  upon  any  occa- 
sion I  always  found  him  ready  to  serve  me.  If  the 
thing  were  impossible,  he  told  me  so  candidly,  for  he 

*  Madame    Richard   was  very  attentive  to  the   Queen.     When  the 
Marquis  de  Rougeville  dropped  a  carnation,  in  which  a  note  was  con- 
cealed,  at  the  feet  of  the   Queen,  he  and  all  Richard's  family  were 
thrown  into  the  dungeons  of  La  Force. 


28  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

never  made  deceitful  promises.  Indeed,  Cambaceres  was 
an  honest  man  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  and  party 
spirit  has  vainly  endeavored  to  assail  him.  His  honor, 
integrity,  and  the  amiability  of  his  manners,  made  him 
generally  beloved.  Cambace'res  was  in  easy  circum- 
stances, though  not  rich,  when  he  was  at  Montpellier. 
He  was  a  relative  of  the  Marquis  de  Montferrier,  whom, 
as  well  as  D'Aigrefeuille,  he  remembered  when  he  rose 
to  greatness  and  power.  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
of  his  political  life  in  another  place. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Marianne  Bonaparte  at  Saint  Cyr  —  Humbled  Pride — Bonaparte  Made 
Sub-Lieutenant  —  His  First  Appearance  in  Uniform  —  His  Singular 
Present  to  My  Sister  —  Scene  at  Malmaison  —  The  Comtesse  d'Escar- 
bagnas  and  the  Marquis  de  Carabas. 

JOSEPH  BONAPARTE  had  addressed  a  letter  to  my  uncle 
^j  Demetrius,  thanking  him  for  his  kind  attention  to 
Marianne  Bonaparte,  who  had  been  placed  at  the 
establishment  of  Saint  Cyr.  My  mother  undertook  the 
task  of  visiting  her  occasionally,  and  during  the  long 
time  which  Marianne  passed  at  Saint  Cyr,  my  mother 
was  a  kind  and  affectionate  friend  to  her. 

One  day  my  mother  and  some  other  members  of  my 
family  went  on  a  visit  to  Saint  Cyr,  and  Bonaparte  ac- 
companied them.  When  Marianne  came  into  the  par- 
lor she  appeared  very  melancholy,  and  at  the  first  word 
that  was  addressed  to  her  she  burst  into  tears.  My 
mother  embraced  her,  and  endeavored  to  console  her. 
It  was  some  time  before  Marianne  would  tell  the  cause 
of  her  distress. 

At  length  my  mother  learned  that  one  of  the  young 
ladies  (Mademoiselle  de  Montluc)  was  to  leave  the  school 
in  a  week,  and  that  the  pupils  of  her  class  intended  giv- 
ing her  a  little  entertainment  on  her  departure.  Every- 
one had  contributed,  but  Marianne  could  not  give 
anything,  because  her  allowance  of  money  was  nearly 
exhausted:  she  had  only  six  francs  remaining. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  29 

ftlf  I  give  the  six  francs,  *  said  she,  <(I  shall  have 
nothing  left,  and  I  shall  not  receive  my  allowance  for 
six  weeks  to  come;  besides,  six  francs  are  not  enough.® 
Napoleon's  first  movement,  as  my  mother  told  me  when 
she  related  this  anecdote,  was  to  put  his  hand  into  his 
pocket.  However,  a  moment's  reflection  assured  him  that 
he  should  find  nothing  there;  he  checked  himself,  col- 
ored slightly,  and  stamped  his  foot. 

My  mother  could  not  refrain  from  laughing  when  she 
thought  of  the  singular  resemblance  between  the  lunch- 
eon of  Saint  Cyr  and  the  breakfast  at  the  Military  School 
of  Paris,  and  she  mentioned  this  in  Greek  to  my  uncle. 
The  coincidence  was  easily  explained;  both  the  brother 
and  sister  were  boursiers  (free  pupils)  in  the  schools,  at 
which  there  were  at  the  same  time  the  children  of  many 
noble  and  wealthy  families. 

Now,  the  Bonaparte  family  were  poor:  this  fact  was 
openly  acknowledged  by  M.  Bonaparte,  the  father,  when 
he  wrote  to  the  Minister  of  War  for  the  purpose  of  get- 
ting Lucien  placed  at  Brienne.  A  great  deal  of  discus- 
sion has  been  started  on  the  question  of  the  wealth  or 
poverty  of  the  Bonaparte  family.  The  reproaches  which 
have  been  founded  on  their  supposed  poverty  are  too 
contemptible  for  notice;  and  in  my  opinion  it  matters 
little  what  were  the  pecuniary  circumstances  of  the  family 
before  they  entered  upon  that  career  of  greatness  which 
the  genius  and  fortune  of  Napoleon  opened  to  them. 

To  return  to  Marianne.  My  mother  asked  her  what 
money  she  wanted  The  sum  was  small:  ten  or  twelve 
francs.  My  mother  gave  her  the  money,  and  her  distress 
was  ended.  When  they  got  into  the  carriage,  Napoleon, 
who  had  restrained  his  feelings  in  the  presence  of  his 
sister,  vented  violent  invective  against  the  detestable 
system  of  such  establishments  as  Saint  Cyr  and  the  Mil- 
itary Schools.  It  was  evident  that  he  deeply  felt  the 
humiliation  of  his  sister.  My  uncle,  who  was  of  a  hasty 
temper,  soon  got  out  of  patience  at  the  bitterness  with 
which  he  expressed  himself,  and  made  some  observations 
which  were  not  very  agreeable  to  him. 

Napoleon  was  silent  immediately,  for  at  that  time 
young  people  were  educated  in  the  observance  of  great 
respect  to  those  who  were  older  than  themselves;  but 
his  heart  was  full.  He  soon  brought  back  the  conversa- 


30         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

tion  to  the  same  subject,  and  at  length  his  language 
became  so  violent  that  my  uncle  exclaimed: 

<(  Silence !  it  ill  becomes  you  who  are  educated  by  the 
King's  bounty  to  speak  as  you  do. w  I  have  often  heard 
my  mother  say  that  she  thought  Napoleon  would  have 
been  stifled  with  rage.  He  was  pale  and  red  in  the 
space  of  a  moment. 

w  I  am  not  educated  at  the  King's  expense,  "  said  he, 
"but  at  the  expense  of  the  State. w 

<(  A  fine  distinction,  truly  !  *  returned  my  uncle.  <(  Is 
not  the  King  the  State  ?  I  will  not  suffer  you  to  speak 
thus  disrespectfully  of  your  benefactor  in  my  presence.® 

<c  I  will  say  nothing  that  may  be  displeasing  to  you, 
sir,*  replied  the  young  man;  (<  only  give  me  leave  to  add 
that,  IF  I  WERE  THE  SOVEREIGN,  and  had  power  to  alter 
these  regulations,  I  would  change  them  so  that  they 
should  be  for  the  advantage  of  all." 

I  need  not  point  the  reader's  attention  to  the  remark- 
able words  IF  I  WERE  THE  SOVEREIGN.  When  he  really 
did  become  a  sovereign  it  is  well  known  on  what  an  ad- 
mirable footing  he  established  his  military  schools.  I  am 
convinced  that  he  long  retained  the  recollection  of  the 
painful  humiliations  he  had  suffered  at  the  Military  School 
of  Paris.  He  certainly  was  no  favorite  there. 

Several  of  the  heads  of  the  establishment,  who  were 
acquainted  with  my  father,  assured  him  that  young  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte  possessed  a  temper  which  there  was  no 
possibility  of  rendering  even  sociable.  He  was  dissatis- 
fied with  everything,  and  expressed  his  dissatisfaction 
in  a  way  which  could  not  but  be  disagreeable  to  his  elders, 
who  regarded  him  as  an  ill-tempered,  wrong-headed 
youth.  His  conduct  accelerated  his  departure  from  the 
college:  his  removal  was  unanimously  urged.*  He  ob- 
tained a  sub-lieutenancy  in  a  regiment  of  artillery,  and 
he  went  to  Grenoble,  Valence,  Auxonne,  etc.,  before  he 
returned  to  Paris. 

Previously  to  his  departure  he  came  to  pass  some  time 
at  our  house.  My  sister  was  then  at  her  convent,  but  she 
frequently  came  home  while  Napoleon  was  with  us.  I 
well  recollect  that,  on  the  day  when  he  first  put  on  his 
uniform,  he  was  as  vain  as  young  men  usually  are  on 

*  That  is,  by  getting  him  posted  to  a  regiment.  There  was  no  idea 
of  removal  in  any  other  way. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  31 

such  an  occasion.  There  was  one  part  of  his  dress  which 
had  a  very  droll  appearance  —  that  was  his  boots.  They 
were  so  high  and  wide  that  his  little  thin  legs  seemed 
buried  in  their  amplitude. 

Young  people  are  always  quick  to  perceive  anything  ri- 
diculous; and  as  soon  as  my  sister  and  I  saw  Napoleon 
enter  the  drawing-room  we  burst  into  a  loud  fit  of  laugh- 
ter. At  that  early  age,  as  well  as  in  after  life,  Bona- 
parte could  not  relish  a  joke ;  and  when  he  found  himself 
the  object  of  merriment  he  grew  angry.  My  sister, 
who  was  some  years  older  than  I,  told  him  that  since  he 
wore  a  sword  he  ought  to  be  gallant  to  ladies,  and,  in- 
stead of  being  angry,  should  be  happy  that  they  joked 
with  him. 

(<  You  are  nothing  but  a  child  —  a  little  pensionnaire,  " 
said  Napoleon,  in  a  tone  of  contempt.  Cecile,  who  was 
twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age,  was  highly  indignant  at 
being  called  a  child,  and  she  hastily  resented  the  affront 
by  replying  to  Bonaparte: 

"And  YOU  are  nothing  but  a  Puss  IN  BOOTS.* 

This  excited  a  general  laugh  among  all  present,  except 
Napoleon,  whose  rage  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe. 
Though  not  much  accustomed  to  society,  he  had  too 
much  tact  not  to  perceive  that  he  ought  to  be  silent 
when  personalities  were  introduced  and  his  adversary 
was  a  woman. 

Though  deeply  mortified  at  the  unfortunate  nickname 
which  my  sister  had  given  him,  yet  he  affected  to  forget 
it;  and  to  prove  that  he  cherished  no  malice  on  the  sub- 
ject, he  got  a  little  toy  made  and  gave  it  as  a  present 
to  me.  This  toy  consisted  of  a  cat  in  boots,  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  footman  running  before  the  carriage  of  the 
Marquis  de  Carabas.  It  was  very  well  made,  and  must 
have  been  rather  expensive  to  him,  considering  his 
straitened  finances.  He  brought  along  with  it  a  pretty 
little  edition  of  the  popular  tale  of  <(  Puss  in  Boots, M  which 
he  presented  to  my  sister,  begging  her  to  keep  it  as  A 

TOKEN    OF    HIS    REMEMBRANCE. 

(<  Oh,  Napoleon, "  said  my  mother,  <(if  you  had  merely 
given  the  toy  to  Loulou  it  would  have  been  all  very 
well;  but  the  tale  for  Cecile  shows  that  you  are  still 
offended  with  her." 

He  gave  his  word  to  the  contrary;    but    I    think    with 


32  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

my  mother  that  some  little  feeling  of  resentment  was 
still  rankling  in  his  mind.  This  story  would  probably 
have  vanished  from  my  recollection  had  I  not  heard  it 
often  told  by  my  mother  and  brother.  My  recollection 
of  it  was  afterward  useful  to  me  in  a  curious  way. 

When  Bonaparte  indulged  in  raillery  he  did  not  use 
the  weapon  with  a  very  light  hand;  and  those  he  loved 
best  often  smarted  under  the  blow.  Though  Junot  was 
a  particular  favorite  of  his  during  the  Consulate  and  the 
first  years  of  the  Empire,  yet  he  frequently  selected  him 
as  the  object  of  some  rough  joke ;  and  if  accompanied  by 
a  pinch  of  the  ear,  so  severe  as  to  draw  blood,  the  favor 
was  complete.  Junot,  who  cherished  for  him  a  sentiment 
of  attachment  which  set  every  other  consideration  at 
nought,  used  to  laugh  heartily  at  these  jokes,  and  then 
thought  no  more  about  them. 

However,  it  sometimes  occurred  that  those  by  whom 
they  had  been  heard  thought  proper  to  repeat  them ;  and 
it  happened  that  on  one  occasion  this  was  very  annoy- 
ing to  me.  One  day,  when  we  were  at  Malmaison,  the 
First  Consul  was  in  high  spirits.  We  were  dining  under 
the  trees  which  crown  the  little  eminence  on  the  left  of 
the  meadow  before  the  castle. 

Madame  Bonaparte  that  day  wore  powder  for  the  first 
time.  It  became  her  very  well,  but  the  First  Consul  did 
nothing  but  laugh  at  her,  and  said  she  would  do  admir- 
ably to  act  the  COMTESSE  D'ESCARBAGNAS.  Josephine 
was  evidently  displeased  at  this,  and  Bonaparte  added, 
w  What,  are  you  afraid  you  will  not  have  a  cavalier? 
There  is  the  Marquis  de  Carabas  (pointing  to  Junot),  he 
will  offer  you  his  arm,  I  am  sure." 

The  First  Consul  had  often  before  called  both  Junot 
and  Marmont  the  Marquis  de  Carabas ;  but  it  was  always 
in  good  humor.  It  was,  he  said,  on  account  of  their 
taste  for  dramatic  representation.  They,  of  course,  only 
laughed  at  the  joke.  Madame  Bonaparte,  however,  took 
it  more  seriously,  and  betrayed  symptoms  of  vexation. 
This  was  not  the  way  to  please  Bonaparte.  He  took  his 
glass  in  his  hand,  and,  looking  toward  his  wife,  he  bowed 
his  head  and  said: 

tt  To  the  health  of  Madame  la  Comtesse  d'Escarbagnas." 

The  continuance  of  this  pleasantry  brought  tears  into 
Madame  Bonaparte's  eyes.  Napoleon  observed  this,  and 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  33 

he  was,  I  believe,  sorry  for  what  he  had  said.  To  make 
amends,  he  again  took  up  his  glass,  and,  winking  at  me, 
he  said: 

"To  the  health    of  Madame    la  Marquise  de  Carabas. " 

We  all  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  in  which  Madame 
Bonaparte  joined,  but  her  heart  was  nevertheless  full. 
The  fact  is,  I  was  only  sixteen,  and  she  was  forty. 

Thus  far  the  affair  did  not  much  concern  me ;  but  now 
for  the  sequel.  Among  the  comrades  of  Junot,  and 
those  who  surrounded  the  First  Consul,  there  were  many 
varieties  of  character.  Courage  was,  to  be  sure,  a  virtue 
common  to  them  all;  but  among  these  valiant  sons  of 
France  there  were  many  who  were  not  gifted  with  much 
common  sense.  One  of  these  took  it  into  his  head  to 
repeat  the  First  Consul's  joke  about  the  MARQUIS  DE 
CARABAS.  His  folly  might  have  reached  the  ears  of  Junot 
and  have  led  to  something  more  serious  than  a  joke. 
I  wished  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  and  I  consulted  my  mother 
as  to  what  I  should  do.  She  gave  me  my  instructions, 
and  I  returned  to  Malmaison,  where  we  were  then  spend- 
ing a  few  days. 

On  the  following  day,  Junot,  who  was  then  Comman- 
dant of  Paris,  was  prevented  coming  to  dinner,  but  he 
came  the  day  after.  We  were  all  on  the  bridge  leading 
to  the  garden,  and  the  First  Consul  was  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  parapet. 

w  My  dear,"  said  I  to  Junot,  "the  first  time  we  go  to 
YOUR  COUNTRY  SEAT,  you  must  not  forget  one  thing  which 
is  indispensably  necessary  in  your  retinue.  If  you  neglect 
it,  I  will  not  go  with  you,  and  so  I  warn  you.  I  am 
sure  the  General  will  say  you  ought  to  have  it." 

(<  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the  First  Consul. 

<(APuss  IN  BOOTS  for  a  running  footman."  The  whole 
party  laughed  immoderately;  but  I  shall  never  forget  the 
look  of  the  First  Consul.  He  was  the  subject  for  a  cari- 
caturist. <(  I  have  preserved, "  continued  I  with  great 
gravity,  <(  a  plaything  which  was  given  me  when  I  was  a 
little  girl.  You  shall  have  it  for  a  model." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  laughter,  but  the  matter 
went  no  further  that  day.  Some  days  afterward  we  had 
assembled  after  dinner  in  the  gallery  next  to  the  drawing- 
room,  and  the  individual  who  had  so  frequently  repeated 
Bonaparte's  joke  made  the  same  allusion  to  the  MARQUISATE. 
3 


34  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

I  fixed  my  eye  on  the  First  Consul;  he  turned  toward 
his  Sosia  and  said  dryly: 

M  When  you  wish  to  imitate  me,  you  should  choose 
your  subject  better;  methinks  you  might  copy  me  in 
better  things.* 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this  rebuke  he 
stepped  up  to  me,  and  pinching  my  nose  till  he  made 
me  cry  out,  he  said: 

"  My  dear,  you  are  a  clever  girl ;  but  you  are  very  sa- 
tirical. Correct  this  disposition.  Remember  that  a  woman 
ceases  to  charm  whenever  she  makes  herself  feared. w  The 
result  of  this  was  that  I  heard  no  more  about  the  MAR- 
QUISATE.  My  mother,  who  had  certainly  been  more  ma- 
licious in  the  affair  than  I  had,  inquired  the  particulars 
of  the  whole  scene,  and  when  I  described  it  she  laughed 
heartily,  and  said,  <(  I  was  sure  that  would  do. w 


CHAPTER    V. 

The  Parliament  of  1787 —  Disturbances  at  Rennes  —  M.  de  Nouainville 
—  M.  Necker — Project  of  M.  de  Lomenie  —  His  Dismissal  from  the 
Ministry  —  Burning  of  the  Effigy  —  Riots  in  Paris  —  Louis  XVI., 
the  Queen,  and  the  Royal  Family. 

AT  THE  time  our  family  came  to  Paris  the  popularity 
enjoyed  by  Parliament  was  immense,  and  it  might 
have  made  use  of  that  for  the  benefit  and  happi- 
ness of  all,  had  it  given  a  right  direction  to  public  feel- 
ing. France,  though  she  contained  within  herself  all  the 
elements  of  the  commotions  which  were  soon  after  de- 
veloped, had  not  as  yet  unfurled  the  flag  of  revolution: 
her  wounds  were  sufficiently  manifest,  and  might  easily 
have  been  healed  by  proper  remedies. 

We  then  saw  what  we  now  see,  and  what  will  always 
be  seen,  viz,  views  of  private  interest  taking  the  place 
of  patriotic  professions.  The  desire,  too,  of  shining  in  a 
lengthened  harangue,  stuffed  with  scraps  of  erudition, 
was  a  universal  mania. 

About  this  time  Despre'me'nil  had  procured,  by  dint  of 
bribery,  a  proof  sheet  of  the  Ministerial  edicts.  When 
he  read  them  to  the  assembled  Chambers,  the  most  pro- 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANT&S  35 

found  indignation,  and  a  thirst  for  vengeance,  kindled 
up  the  fatal  war  between  the  Court  and  the  Parliament. 
Seeing  its  interests  attacked  on  all  sides,  that  body  be- 
came an  enemy,  and  a  dangerous  one.  The  rupture  be- 
came every  day  more  and  more  serious.  The  Ministry, 
irritated  at  the  surreptitious  divulgence  of  their  plans, 
ordered  the  arrest  of  Despre'me'nil  in  the  most  arbitrary 
manner.  The  Parliament  renewed  its  clamors :  Paris  was 
filled  with  murmurs,  and  an  ominous  fermentation  pre- 
vailed everywhere. 

At  this  juncture  M.  de  Brienne,  who  neither  knew  how 
to  yield  with  grace  nor  to  act  with  decision  when  the 
occasion  required  it,  prorogued  all  the  parliaments  of  the 
kingdom.  This  was  a  second  appeal  to  insurrection, 
which,  indeed,  seemed  too  slow  in  its  advances.  My 
brother  at  that  period  went  to  join  his  regiment,  which 
was  then  in  garrison  at  Saint  Brieux;  but  having  many 
letters  of  recommendation  at  Rennes,  he  spent  in  that 
town  all  the  time  he  had  at  his  disposal,  before  he  joined 
his  comrades. 

Rennes  was  then  in  such  a  state  of  ferment  and  irri- 
tation as  threatened  an  immediate  explosion.  The  mag- 
istracy and  noblesse  had  united  to  protest  in  anticipation 
against  every  infringement  of  their  rights.  The  no- 
blesse, indeed,  were  most  violent:  they  declared  that  all 
who  accepted  any  of  the  new  posts  were  scoundrels,  and 
they  conveyed  this  protest  by  deputies,  who  were  arrested 
on  their  route  by  order  of  the  Ministry. 

One  morning  my  brother  was  awakened  by  a  great 
tumult.  He  soon  learned  that  Bertrand  de  Molleville  and 
the  Comte  de  Thiars*  were  in  imminent  danger,  in  con- 
sequence of  endeavoring  to  register  the  edicts.  He  im- 
mediately dressed  himself,  seized  his  sword  and  pistols, 
and  ran  to  the  barracks  of  the  Rohan-Chabot  regiment, 
which  was  then  in  garrison  at  Rennes. 

My  brother  had  friends  there,  and  naturally  was  anx- 
ious on  their  account,  though  he  was  aware  of  their 
honorable  sentiments.  The  excitement  was  at  its  height 
when  he  arrived  at  the  scene  of  action.  The  soldiers, 
irritated  and  insulted  by  the  people,  had  lost  all  pa- 
tience, and  the  business  would  in  all  probability  have 

*  The  former  the  Intendant,  the  latter  the  Commandant,  of  the  prov- 
ince. 


36  MEMOIRS   OP   MADAME   JUNOT 

terminated  in  bloodshed,  had  not  an  individual,  whose 
name  is  not  sufficiently  celebrated,  that  day  immortal- 
ized himself  by  his  admirable  conduct.  The  people  were 
proceeding  to  acts  of  violence;  the  soldiers  only  waited 
for  the  order  to  fire,  when  M.  Blondel  de  Nouainville 
was  commanded  to  execute  the  painful  duty  of  directing 
an  attack  on  the  people.  Throwing  himself  into  the 
midst  of  the  crowd,  he  exclaimed: 

(<  My  friends,  what  is  it  you  do?  Do  not  sacrifice 
yourselves!  Are  we  not  all  brothers?  Soldiers,  halt!" 
The  troops  and  the  people  suspended  their  advance ;  at 
the  same  instant  tranquillity  was  restored,  and  M.  De 
Nouainville  was  carried  about  the  town  in  triumph. 

My  father,  whom  confidential  relations  placed  in  com- 
munication with  M.  Necker,  introduced  my  brother  to 
him,  in  order  that  he  might  hear  from  his  mouth  the 
recital  of  the  tmeute  at  Rennes.  My  father  was  decid- 
edly of  opinion  that,  in  a  province  like  Brittany,  such  a 
proceeding  was  more  likely  to  add  fuel  to  the  flame 
than  to  extinguish  it. 

My  brother  was  then  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  his 
judgment  ripened  by  much  traveling,  and  a  solid  edu- 
cation directed  by  an  able  father,  enabled  him,  in  spite 
of  his  youth,  not  only  to  observe,  but  to  draw  useful 
inductions  from  his  observations.  M.  Necker  perceived 
this  as  he  listened  to  his  narrative,  and  he  mentioned 
it  to  my  father. 

Alas!  how  desirable  it  would  have  been  if  M.  Necker, 
who  possessed  a  mind  of  such  rectitude,  had  but  listened 
to  my  father,  and  used  his  influence  with  the  Queen, 
who  was  all-powerful,  to  arrest  that  fatal  proceeding, 
which,  as  she  said,  would  reduce  Brittany  to  the  con- 
dition of  A  CONQUERED  PROVINCE!  What  torrents  of  French 
blood  were  shed  in  Brittany!  and  yet  the  Revolution  had 
not  then  commenced ;  for  many  date  that  event  from  the 
taking  of  the  Bastile.  M.  de  Lomenie's  burlesque  and 
tragi-comic  Ministry  was  still  inundating  us  with  its 
errors  and  its  follies.  Although  the  devotion  of  a  true 
citizen  had  stopped  the  effusion  of  blood  at  Rennes, 
Grenoble  was  steeped  in  gore. 

An  admirable  address  conveyed  to  the  foot  of  the 
throne  a  statement  of  the  grievances  which  pressed  on 
the  people  of  Dauphiny.  For  an  answer  it  received  an 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  37 

insult,  dictated  to  Louis  XVI.  by  the  delirium  of  an 
insane  Ministry.  One  false  step  was  the  parent  of 
another,  and  error  succeeded  error  without  the  means  of 
providing  a  remedy.  Finally,  after  trying  over  and  over 
again  the  dangerous  experiment  of  a  coup  d'etat — after 
the  patience  of  the  nation  was  exhausted,  the  Archbishop 
made  the  fatal  promise  of  assembling  the  States-General.* 

It  is  certain  that  the  hopes  of  the  Archbishop  of  Sens, 
in  the  distressing  situation  into  which  his  imprudence 
and  folly  had  thrown  him,  rested  upon  a  fragile  edifice 
of  Machiavellian  conception,  which  assuredly  the  wily  Ital- 
ian would  never  have  avowed  under  similar  circumstances. 

Monsieur  de  Lome*nie  s  project  was  to  embroil  the  two 
privileged  Orders,  and  reconcile  them  again  through  the 
medium  of  the  King  and  the  Third  Estate;  the  object 
of  this  fine  plan  was  to  destroy  the  influence  of  the  first 
two  Orders.  What  infatuation!  and  it  was  to  such  a 
man  that  the  destinies  of  a  great  people  were,  for  fifteen 
months,  intrusted!  Truly  it  is  difficult  to  determine 
which  is  most  strange  —  his  absurdity,  or  the  people's 
toleration  of  it! 

But  even  patience  must  have  its  term.  The  Treasury 
was  drained;  famine  and  bankruptcy  stared  us  in  the 
face ;  all  was  ruin  around  us !  The  public  indignation  at 
length  overwhelmed  M.  de  Lome"nie,  and  he  retired  from 
the  Ministry,  pursued  by  the  execrations  of  all  parties. 

On  the  day  that  terminated  his  administration,  some 
young  men  prepared  an  effigy,  the  size  of  life,  and 
dressed  like  the  Archbishop  in  a  crimson  robe,  of  which 
three-fifths  were  composed  of  satin,  and  the  two  others 
of  paper  (by  way  of  allusion  to  the  decree  of  the  i6th  of 
August  preceding).  This  effigy  they  burned  with  all  due 
ceremony  in  the  Place  Dauphine,  with  every  demonstra- 
tion of  extravagant  exultation. 

There  was  at  that  time  in  Paris  a  Chevalier  Dubois, 
who  commanded  the  guard  called  the  guet  or  patrol. 
This  guet  was  the  gendarmerie  of  the  time.  The  burning 
of  the  effigy  displeased  M.  Dubois;  and  next  day,  when 
an  attempt  was  made  to  renew  the  ceremony,  he  pre- 
sented himself  in  person  to  forbid  it.  The  demonstra- 
tors desired  him  to  go  about  his  business;  he  refused, 
and  some  altercation  arose.  He  then  desired  his  men  to 

*The  King  promised  they  should  meet  on  the  ist  of  May,  1789. 


38  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

employ  their  arms,  and  they  did  so  without  mercy.  At 
sight  of  the  killed  and  wounded  the  people  became  furi- 
ous; they  attacked  and  drove  away  the  guet;  several 
guardhouses  were  forced  and  the  arms  seized.  The  riot 
continued  to  increase.  It  was  now  night.  A  detachment 
of  the  French  guards,  concealed  under  the  arcade  of 
Saint  Jean  and  in  the  Rue  Martrois,  fired  on  the  crowd, 
and  killed  a  great  number.  The  dead  bodies  were  thrown 
into  the  Seine,  and  tranquillity  was  for  a  time  restored. 

But  on  the  resignation  of  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  who 
was  as  much  disliked  as  the  Archbishop  of  Toulouse,  the 
discontent  of  the  people  again  broke  out.  Great  rioting 
ensued  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  and  numbers  of  people 
were  killed  by  the  military. 

M.  Necker  was  called  to  the  head  of  the  department 
of  finance,  and  affairs  took  a  favorable  aspect.  The 
finances  of  the  country  acquired  confidence,  the  prisoners 
were  released  from  the  Bastile,  and  the  Parliament  was 
reassembled.  The  double  representation  of  the  Third 
Estate  was  the  wish  of  every  just  and  reasonable  man. 
It  was  found  necessary  to  adopt  it;  and  on  the  ayth  of 
December,  1788,  at  a  Royal  Council  at  which  the  Queen 
was  present,  it  was  determined  to  grant  the  additional 
representation. 

This  measure  produced  enthusiastic  joy  throughout  all 
France,  the  demonstration  of  which  was  attended  by  con- 
siderable disturbance  at  Montmartre,  Rennes,  and  other 
towns  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

It  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  the  whole  of  France  was  in- 
cluded in  the  provinces  of  Dauphiny,  Brittany,  and  the 
Franche-Comte".  Hence  it  was  that  the  people  constantly 
insisted  on  the  revival  of  their  old  rights  and  preroga- 
tives; hence  those  perpetual  contests  between  the  States, 
the  Parliaments,  and  the  King's  Council.  For  example, 
in  Franche-Comte,  thirty-two  members  of  the  noblesse 
protested  against  the  decree  of  the  majority  of  the 
States  The  Parliament  canceled  the  protest,  and  the 
King's  Council  in  its  turn  canceled  the  decree  of 
the  Parliament. 

The  fact  is,  Louis  XVI.  might  have  been  competent 
to  govern  in  ordinary  times;  his  virtues  might  have 
shed  luster  over  a  peaceful  throne;  but  the  storm  could 
only  be  allayed  by  a  degree  of  courage  and  decision  in 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  39 

which  he  was  wanting.  The  King  had  near  him  a  per- 
fidious enemy  in  his  Privy  Council. 

The  Queen,  too,  exercised  great  influence  over  him, 
and  was  a  most  dangerous  guide.  She  was  passionate, 
full  of  prejudices,  and  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  to 
revenge  herself  when  her  private  interests  were  wounded. 
But  her  misfortunes  and  those  of  the  King,  must  throw 
a  veil  over  their  faults. 

As  to  the  other  members  of  the  royal  family,  they 
were  so  divided  that  they  could  afford  no  rallying  point, 
The  King's  aunts,  one  of  whom  had  previously  possessed 
great  influence  over  the  royal  couple,  had  been  superseded 
by  other  favorites.  Madame  Victoire  had  no  power; 
and  as  to  the  pious  Madame  Elizabeth,  she  conceived 
she  had  no  other  duty  to  perform  than  to  offer  up 
prayers  for  the  safety  of  those  about  her. 

Monsieur  had  set  up  a  sort  of  opposition,  which  in 
France  was  infinitely  more  dangerous  than  it  would  have 
been  in  England,  where  it  seems  to  be  quite  orthodox 
that  the  heir  to  the  throne  should  head  an  opposition. 
Monsieur,  however,  did  his  brothers  great  injury  without 
perhaps  intending  it,  and  the  conduct  of  Madame  was 
even  more  mischievous. 

As  the  Comte  d'Artois,  his  claim  might  have  been  void, 
though  he  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  throne,  had  he  not 
considered  it  a  point  of  honor  to  disavow  any  other  law 
than  the  established  authority  of  the  Crown.  Such  was 
the  situation  of  France  and  the  royal  family  in  1789, 
just  before  the  opening  of  the  States-General. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Opening  of  the  States-General  —  Conversation  between  Bonaparte  and 
Comte  Louis  de  Narbonne  —  Baron  de  Breteuil  —  The  Queen  and 
M.  de  Vergennes  —  Mirabeau  —  Advances  Made  by  the  Court  — 
A  Bribe  Refused  —  The  Queen's  Anger  —  Mirabeau  Solicits  an  In- 
terview with  the  Queen. 

ON  THE    5th    of    May,    1789,    the   States-General    were 
opened.     I  was  then  too   young  to  understand   the 
solemnity  of  the  spectacle  presented  by  the  States 
when  they  proceeded  to  the  church  of  St.   Louis  at  Ver- 


40  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

sailles  to  hear  mass  on  the  day  preceding  their  sitting; 
but  I  well  recollect  the  immense  and  joyful  crowd  which 
thronged  the  three  avenues,  and  lined  the  road  along 
which  the  deputies  passed. 

The  States  commenced  their  labors.  Had  union  pre- 
vailed throughout  all  the  parts  of  the  great  whole,  that 
admirable  work  would  have  been  brought  to  a  favorable 
issue.  Unfortunately,  there  was  not  only  a  want  of  un- 
ion, but  there  was  no  wish  to  establish  it.  The  Third 
Estate  grew  tired  of  not  being  heard,  or  rather  of  re- 
ceiving, by  way  of  answer,  demands  made  by  the  clergy 
and  nobility,  in  a  tone  of  authority  ill-suited  to  prevail- 
ing circumstances.  At  length  came  the  separation  of  the 
Third  Estate  from  the  two  privileged  orders.  This  was 
the  finishing  stroke ;  the  grand  contest  between  the  throne 
and  the  nation  was  now  about  to  be  decided. 

The  retreat  of  the  Third  Estate  into  the  Tennis  Court 
produced  an  effect  which  years  would  not  have  brought 
about.  The  deputies,  by  declaring  themselves  to  be  the 
representatives  of  a  great  nation,  acquired  new  power: 
the  people  began  to  measure  their  strength,  and  they 
found  that  they  might  venture  very  far  in  attempting 
the  great  work  of  their  deliverance. 

One  of  the  causes  which  contributed  to  overthrow  the 
throne  of  France,  at  this  disastrous  period,  was  under- 
ground intrigue.  Napoleon,  when  one  day  conversing 
about  the  Revolution  with  Comte  Louis  de  Narbonne,  said : 

<(  But  you  had  great  influence,  had  you  not  ? }>  M.  de 
Narbonne  observed  that  nothing  could  be  more  unfounded 
than  that  supposition.  His  constitutional  opinions  with- 
held him  alike  from  advocating  or  opposing  the  Revolu- 
tion M,  de  Narbonne  added  that  it  was  the  Queen 
herself  who  insisted  on  the  double  representation  of  the 
royal  authority,  though  without  any  hostile  feeling 
toward  France,  which  she  loved  and  regarded  as  her 
adopted  country.  Many  absurdities  have  been  advanced 
on  this  subject;  for  example,  what  could  be  more  ridicu- 
lous than  to  suppose  the  Queen  to  have  been  more  at- 
tached to  her  brother  than  to  her  husband,  her  children, 
and  her  crown  ? 

<(  I  believe,  however, w  said  M.  de  Narbonne,  <(  that  in 
1792  the  Queen  was  so  irritated  by  all  she  had  suffered 
for  three  years  previously,  that  her  love  for  France  was 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  41 

naturally  very  much  diminished. w  As  to  the  hidden 
government,  the  Baron  de  Breteuil  is  the  individual  who 
is  most  to  be  reproached  on  that  score.  While  he 
declared  it  to  be  his  wish  to  establish  the  English  Con- 
stitution in  France,  he  would  have  introduced  the  Con- 
stitution of  Constantinople  if  there  had  been  such  a 
thing.  That  man  did  a  great  deal  of  mischief  in  France, 
with  his  loud  voice  and  narrow  ideas. 

My  mother  described  to  me  the  enthusiastic  admiration 
with  which  the  Queen  was  received  on  one  occasion  when 
she  appeared  at  the  opera  soon  after  her  marriage.  The 
performance  was  ^Iphigtnie  en  Aulide. w  The  Queen  arrived 
very  late,  and  the  fine  chorus  Chant  ons,  ctttbrons  notre 
Reine,  had  just  been  sung.  As  soon  as  the  Queen  entered, 
the  repetition  of  the  chorus  was  unanimously  called  for, 
and  it  was  sung  by  the  whole  audience  with  such  affec- 
tionate ardor  that  the  Queen  melted  into  tears.  Alas! 
unfortunate  princess,  how  soon  was  this  love  changed  to 
hatred! 

The  following  is  one  of  the  many  circumstances  which 
combined  to  effect  that  change.  While  M.  de  Vergennes 
was  in  the  department  of  Foreign  Affairs,  he  was  one  day 
summoned  by  the  Queen  on  some  very  singular  business. 
The  Queen's  brother,  the  Emperor,  had  requested  her  to 
obtain  a  loan  of  twelve  millions  for  him.  Of  course,  it 
was  understood  that  the  money  was  to  be  repaid ;  but,  in 
the  public  ferment  which  then  existed,  it  was  necessary 
that  both  the  loan  and  the  repayment  should  be  kept  a 
profound  secret. 

The  matter  was  very  difficult ;  for,  on  the  Queen's  own 
acknowledgment,  the  King  was  decidedly  opposed  to  it. 
The  Queen  informed  M.  de  Vergennes  that  she  wished  him 
to  devise  some  means  of  raising  the  money,  and,  above 
all,  of  inducing  the  King  to  consent  to  it. 

"With  all  the  respect  I  entertain  for  Your  Majesty, " 
replied  the  Minister,  <(  I  am  unfortunately  obliged  to  dis- 
obey your  commands.  The  State  Treasury  is  empty;  we 
are  approaching  a  terrible  crisis,  and  I  should  consider 
myself  very  culpable  were  I,  by  my  advice,  to  urge  the 
King  to  a  step  which  cannot  but  be  fatal  to  Your  Majesties 
and  to  France. w 

"Sir,®  said  the  Queen  haughtily,  <(  I  sent  for  you  to 
request  your  intercession,  not  to  ask  for  your  advice. 


42  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

But  I  shall,  without  your  aid,  prevail  on  the  King  to  do 
what  will  strengthen  the  links  of  friendship  between 
France  and  Austria.  I  shall  merely  trouble  you  to  pro- 
cure the  funds;  and  I  will,  if  necessary,  be  the  security. 
The  Queen  of  France  may  love  her  adopted  country  with- 
out forgetting  that  she  is  an  Austrian  Archduchess.  I 
want  no  new  taxes.  I  do  not  even  wish  that  the  depart- 
ment of  Finance  should  be  applied  to  in  this  affair;  but 
a  loan  may  be  raised,  and  let  it  be  done." 

M.  de  Vergennes  returned  home  much  disconcerted. 
The  Queen's  determination  seemed  to  be  positive,  and 
the  Minister  plainly  saw  that  the  King  would  yield  to 
the  entreaties  of  the  woman  he  loved.  That  very  even- 
ing the  King  sent  for  him,  and  informed  him,  with  an 
embarrassed  air,  of  the  promise  which  the  Queen  had 
extorted  from  him,  and  expressed  his  wish  that  the  sum, 
or  at  least  half  of  it,  should  be  raised. 

It  was  not  easy  at  that  time  to  raise  money  for  the 
Government  itself,  and  great  address  was  requisite  to 
attain  that  object.  There  was  in  Paris  an  immensely 
rich  banker  named  Durhuet.  He  was  commissioned  by 
M.  de  Vergennes  to  raise  the  loan.  After  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  and  one  or  two  journeys,  he  at  length  suc- 
ceeded. The  courier  who  was  to  convey  to  Vienna  the 
intelligence  that  the  King  had  given  his  consent  to  a 
loan  of  twelve  millions,  when  France  wanted  bread,  was 
ready  to  start.  M.  de  Vergennes  delivered  to  him  his 
dispatches  with  secret  instructions.  The  courier  set  out; 
but  when  he  had  got  about  twenty  leagues  from  Paris 
he  was  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  was  obliged  to  suspend 
his  journey  for  forty- eight  hours. 

This  interval  was  well  employed  by  the  Minister.  He 
threw  himself  at  the  King's  feet,  and  so  earnestly  im- 
plored him  to  consider  that  the  step  he  was  about  to 
take  would  be  attended  by  fatal  consequences,  that  Louis 
XVI.  consented  to  the  recall  of  the  courier.  The  money 
was  restored  to  M.  Durhuet,  and  the  King's  refusal  was 
sent  to  Vienna  instead  of  the  loan. 

After  the  separation  of  the  Third  Estate  from  the  two 
privileged  Orders,  but  few  means  of  reconciliation  really 
remained,  though  at  first  there  appeared  many,  and 
among  them  was  to  win  over  Mirabeau.  This  astonish- 
ing man  was  without  doubt,  the  greatest  political  char- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  43 

acter  of  our  Revolution.  His  portrait  has  been  drawn 
in  every  attitude,  under  all  possible  lights;  and  yet  they 
have  but  little  understood  this  wonderful  orator  who  think 
they  have  said  enough  when  they  echo  the  expressions: 

"What  inimitable  talent!  he  was  surely  inspired!  but, 
then,  the  immorality  of  his  writings ! w  and  so  on. 

I  am,  indeed,  far  from  wishing  to  represent  Mirabeau 
as  an  estimable  character;  but  the  brilliancy  of  that  co- 
lossal talent  with  which  nature  had  gifted  him  still  re- 
mains to  elicit  admiration,  and  make  us  overlook,  by  the 
contrast,  the  shades  which  darken  so  splendid  a  picture. 
It  would  be  the  height  of  absurdity  in  me  to  lay  a  tint 
upon  the  portrait  of  Mirabeau  which  would  in  any  de- 
gree diminish  its  truth  to  nature. 

I  merely  contend  that,  in  speaking  of  him,  we  ought 
not  to  take  for  granted  all  the  errors  which  have  been 
laid  to  his  charge.  It  matters  little  to  us  that  the  old 
magisterial  peruke  of  the  President  Le  Monier  was  com- 
promised in  the  tribunals.  What  business  have  we  with 
the  matrimonial  squabbles  of  M.  and  Mme.  de  Mira- 
beau? 

I  cannot  class  Mirabeau  with  the  rest  of  the  men  who 
figured  in  the  Revolution.  I  flatter  myself  I  knew  more 
of  his  real  character  than  those  who  were  acquainted  with 
him  at  the  epoch  of  his  brilliant  existence.  The  fact  is, 
that  I  was  in  the  habit  of  seeing  regularly,  almost  every 
day,  for  at  least  seven  years  of  my  early  life,  the  two 
individuals  who  were  best  able  to  give  me  an  accurate 
opinion  of  Mirabeau. 

The  first  was  his  dearest  friend,  the  man  he  cherished 
above  all  others,  and  who  in  return  almost  worshiped 
his  memory.  This  man,  who  followed  the  political  path 
of  Mirabeau,  and  who,  by  means  of  his  intimacy  with 
him,  and  subsequently  with  Dumourier,  obtained  a  sort 
of  influence  in  the  Government,  was  Bonnecarere.  He 
lived  at  Versailles  at  the  time  I  resided  there. 

The  other  individual  was  Cardinal  Maury,  who,  when 
only  an  abbe",  was  the  opponent  of  Mirabeau,  by  whom, 
however,  he  was  constantly  defeated.  From  the  senti- 
ments of  these  two  men,  and  likewise  from  some  docu- 
ments which  have  been  placed  at  my  disposal,  I  have 
drawn  my  inferences.  I  have  formed  an  opinion  which  is, 
I  trust,  divested  of  prejudice.  Excluded  from  the  rank 


44  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

to  which  his  birth  entitled  him,  Mirabeau  determined  to 
recover  it  at  any  price. 

He  vowed  vengeance  against  his  enemies,  and  with  this 
bitterness  of  feeling  did  Mirabeau  take  his  seat  in  the 
assembly  of  the  States-General.  As  he  entered  the  Hall 
on  the  day  of  opening,  he  cast  a  threatening  glance  on 
the  ranks  which  he  was  not  allowed  to  approach.  A 
bitter  smile  played  on  his  lips,  which  were  habitually  con- 
tracted by  an  ironical  and  scornful  expression.  He  pro- 
ceeded across  the  Hall,  and  seated  himself  upon  those 
benches  from  which  he  was  soon  to  hurl  the  thunder- 
bolts which  shook  the  throne. 

A  gentleman  strongly  attached  to  the  Court,  but  like- 
wise a  friend  of  Mirabeau,  the  Comte  de  Reb 1,  who 

had  observed  the  rancorous  look  which  he  darted  around 
him  when  he  took  his  seat,  entered  into  conversation 
with  him  the  same  day,  and  pointed  out  to  him  that  his 
peculiar  position  in  the  world  closed  every  salon  in  Paris 
against  him. 

(<  Consider, w  said  the  Count,  <(  that  society  when  once 
wounded  is  not  easily  conciliated.  If  you  wish  to  be  par- 
doned, you  must  ask  pardon. M 

Mirabeau  listened  with  impatience  to  what  the  Count 
said,  but  when  he  used  the  word  "pardon"  he  could  con- 
tain himself  no  longer,  but  started  up  and  stamped  vio- 
lently on  the  ground.  His  bushy  hair  seemed  to  stand 
on  end,  his  little  piercing  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  his  lips 
turned  pale  and  quivered.  This  was  always  the  way  with 
Mirabeau  when  he  was  strongly  excited. 

(<  I  am  come  hither, w  cried  he  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
(<  to  be  asked,  not  to  ask  for,  pardon. w  These  words  were 
reported  that  very  evening  to  the  Queen.  Her  Majesty 
used  to  note  in  her  memorandum  book  those  deputies 
whose  talents  were  worthy  her  notice.  We  may  con- 
clude that  Mirabeau  stood  at  the  top  of  her  red-ink 
list. 

That  Mirabeau  was  corruptible,  all  the  world  knows. 
To  manage  a  negotiation  with  him  was,  however,  a  diffi- 
cult and  delicate  task.  Nevertheless,  intrigue  and  cun- 
ning afforded  hopes  of  success  at  a  moment  when  fears 
and  misgivings  were  becoming  more  and  more  acute  and 
deeply  seated. 

On  the  7th  of  May,    1789.  the   Queen  was  informed   of 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  45 

Mirabeau's  hostile  intentions.*  M.  Necker  was  consulted, 
and  his  opinion  was  that  Mirabeau  was  possessed  of  ex- 
traordinary talent,  but  wanted  judgment;  and  he  consid- 
ered him  not  very  formidable. 

But  M.  Necker  ought  to  have  known  enough  of  our 
nation  to  be  aware  what  might  be  produced  by  brilliant 
oratory  and  an  eloquence  teeming  with  facts.  Now,  the 
cause  that  Mirabeau  had  undertaken  to  defend  was  in 
itself  the  most  just  of  all  causes,  and  that  M.  Necker 
knew  better  than  most  people.  He,  however,  declined 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  negotiation,  and  merely 
yielded  to  the  Queen's  wish  to  place  at  her  disposal 
a  sum  of  money  to  assist  the  execution  of  her  de- 
signs. 

Furnished  with  his  instructions  and  a  well-stocked 
purse,  the  Comte  de  Re"b 1  went  one  morning  to  Mira- 
beau, plied  him  with  much  art,  and  finally  made  him 
offers  which  he  felt  confident  he  would  not  hesitate  to 
accept.  But  fate  ordained  that  the  man  who  had  always 
been  needy,  and  tormented  by  creditors,  was  at  that 
moment  well  supplied  with  money. 

What  was  the  result?  He  rejected  the  proposition  of 

Comte  de  Re"b 1,  and  asked  him  for  whom  he  took 

him.  Mirabeau  dismissed  the  Count  with  the  dignity  of 
an  ancient  Greek,  telling  him  that  offers  of  money  could 
not  be  listened  to.  The  Count,  though  chagrined  at  his 
disappointment,  did  not  lose  hope.  He  knew  Mirabeau 
well  enough,  and  was  sure  he  would  not  remain  long  in 
his  present  frame  of  mind. 

That  same  evening  a  man  who  served  Mirabeau  in  the 
capacity  of  a  pacolet  called  upon  the  Count.  This  man, 
like  Joule  vet,  was  a  kind  of  factotum  to  the  tribune  of 
the  people.  He  had  been  implicated  in  the  trial  of 
Madame  Lemonnier,  and  since  that  period  had  served, 
though  indirectly,  his  dangerous  patron,  whom  he  loved. 
He  was  a  practiced  intriguer,  and  had  been  attracted  to 
Paris  by  the  assembling  of  the  States-General,  reasonably 
presuming  that  there  his  talents  would  find  occupation. 
He  waited  on  his  old  patron,  and  through  the  medium 

*That  is  to  say,  that  it  was  known  BY  HIS  OWN  AVOWAL  what  he 
intended  to  do.  and  what  he  required  for  pursuing  a  directly  contrary 
line  of  conduct.  The  documents  relating  to  this  HAVE  BEEN  IN  MY 
HANDS,  and  are  still  in  existence. 


46  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

of  M.  de  Bonnecarere,  from  whom  I  had  these  facts,  was 
introduced  to  Mirabeau.  Obscure  as  this  man  was,  he 
was  of  singular  assistance  to  Mirabeau.  Of  this  I  have 
seen  written  proofs. 

Joulevet  opened  the  conference  with  the  Comte  de 

Re"b 1  by  announcing-  to  him  that  Mirabeau  consented 

to  place  his  influence  at  the  disposal  of  the  Court,  but 
required,  he  said,  an  honorable  treaty,  and  not  a  paltry 
bargain ;  *  that  he  did  not  wish  to  supersede  M.  Necker, 
whose  talents  he  respected  (this,  by  the  way,  is  not  true, 
for  Mirabeau  made  him  the  constant  butt  of  his  raillery),! 
but  that  any  other  department  of  the  Ministry  would  suit 
him.  On  these  terms  he  would  devote  his  services  to 
the  Court. 

The  Comte  de  Re*b 1,  who  was  a  simple  man, 

thought,  on  hearing  this,  that  ambilion  had  wrought  this 
change  in  Mirabeau.  He  went  to  him,  and  was  this  time 
well  received,  and  heard  all  the  reasons  he  gave  for  his 
readiness  to  SACRIFICE  himself  by  entering  the  Ministry 
at  such  a  moment.  The  same  day  the  Count  saw  the 
individual  who  was  to  speak  to  the  Queen,  and  he,  on 
the  first  intelligence  of  the  capitulation  of  Mirabeau  (for 
he  was  really  a  stronghold),  ran  immediately  to  acquaint 
the  Queen  with  the  happy  news.  The  Count  followed, 
and  when  he  entered  the  Queen's  cabinet,  her  Majesty 
advanced  toward  him,  her  countenance  beaming  with 
pleasure. 

<(The  King  will  be  gratified  by  your  zeal,  monsieur, w 
said  she  to  the  plenipotentiary.  w  Well,  had  you  a  good 
bargain  of  this  man  ?  How  much  has  he  cost  ? w  The 

Comte  de  R6b 1  then  said  that  Mirabeau,  with  true 

magnanimity,  had  rejected  all  propositions  of  a  pecuniary 
nature.  He  then  mentioned  the  appointment  to  the 
Ministry. 

At  the  mention  of  this  the  Queen  reddened,  and  then 

*  My  memory  is  rather  in  doubt  with  regard  to  the  amount  of  the 
sum  stipulated  —  I  think  100,000  francs.  I  have  forgotten  whether  this 
sum  was  part  of  the  personal  property  of  M.  Necker.  But  M.  Necker's 
honorable  character  would  lead  to  that  inference. 

t  Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  seen  a  work  of  Madame  de  Stael, 
in  which  she  states  that  Mirabeau  had  a  high  opinion  of  M.  Necker.  In 
this  she  is  certainly  deceived.  I  know  that  Mirabeau  used  among  his 
intimate  friends  to  call  him  a  fool  and  a  political  Cassandra.  Madame 
de  StaeTs  filial  affection  carries  her  too  far. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  47 

turned   deadly   pale.     She    closed  her  eyes,  and,  striking 
her  forehead  with  her  hand,  exclaimed: 

"A  Minister!  Make  RIQUETTI  MIRABEAU  a  Minister! 
Never  !  never  will  I  allow  the  threshold  of  the  King's 
Council  to  be  sullied  by  the  footsteps  of  such  a 
man. " 

She  trembled  with  rage.  <(  Let  him  have  money  ! 
Give  him  all  he  asks  for  !  But  to  make  him  a  Minister  ! 
—  Is  it  possible  that  my  friends  can  give  me  this  advice  ?  w 
She  then  paced  the  room  with  every  mark  of  violent 
agitation,  repeating  the  words,  (<  A  Minister,  forsooth  !  a 
Minister  ! w 

The  sequel  of  the  story  is  curious.  The  sum  offered 
to  Mirabeau  might  be  regarded  as  considerable  at  a 
period  when  money,  being  distributed  in  every  direction, 
was  not  very  abundant  at  Versailles.  After  Mirabeau 
had  refused  it  three  times,  the  Queen  desired  the  individ- 
ual employed  in  the  negotiation  to  return  it.  This  in- 
dividual departed  for  Germany,  and  after  he  was  gone 
Mirabeau  became  pressed  for  money,  and  did  not  know 
how  to  raise  it.  He  had  missed  the  opportunity,  and 
the  channel  of  communication  was  gone. 

When  the  intermediary  returned  it  was  too  late:  Mira- 
beau had  entered  the  lists,  he  had  thrown  down  the 
gauntlet,  and  now  wanted  both  MONEY  and  OFFICE.  It  is 
curious  that  Mirabeau  earnestly  solicited  an  interview 
with  the  Queen.  But  the  Queen  would  consent  to  it  only 
on  condition  that  it  should  be  in  the  presence  of  M.  de 
Reb  —  —1  or  Monsieur.  Mirabeau,  however,  would  not 
accede  to  that  condition. 

What  could  be  Mirabeau's  object  in  so  urgently  press- 
ing this  interview  ?  Did  he  not  believe  the  truth  of  the 
story  of  the  necklace  ?  Did  he  found  any  hopes  on  the 
powers  of  captivation  with  which  nature  had  endowed  him, 
in  spite  of  his  personal  disadvantages  ? 

It  is  not  surprising  that  Mirabeau  should  have  main- 
tained profound  silence  on  this  affair.  It  was  a  point  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  members  of  the  States-General 
should  preserve,  in  the  opinions  of  the  citizens,  a  char- 
acter for  purity,  independence,  and  disinterestedness. 
All  and  each  of  the  deputies  pledged  themselves  on 
their  honor  not  to  solicit  or  accept  any  pension  or  favor 
directly  or  indirectly.  These  considerations  rendered 


48  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Mirabeau  circumspect,  and  whatever  might  be  his  habitual 
imprudence,  he  acted  with  no  indiscretion  in  this  affair, 
the  details  of  which  were  not  known  until  some  years 
afterward. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Louis  XVI.   at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  on  the  i4th  of  July  —  Revolutionary 
Scenes  — Departure  of   My   Father  and  Brother  for  England  —  My 

Father's  Return — His  Duel  with  M.   de   Som le — Domiciliary 

Visit  to  My  Father's  House  —  Napoleon's  Remarks  upon  It  —  The  loth 
of  August  —  We  Save  Two  of  Our  Friends  —  M.  de  Condorcet  —  My 
Father  Denounced  —  Departure  of  My  Father  and  Mother  from  Paris 
—  My  Sister  and  I  placed  at  a  Boarding  School. 

WHEN,  after  the  i4th  of  July,  the  King  was  conducted 
to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  to  sanction  the  Revolution 
against  himself,  my  father  informed  me  that  his 
deep  distress  and  calm,  dignified  deportment  inspired 
respect  from  all  who  surrounded  him.  The  King  had 
long  seen  the  storm  gathering  in  the  horizon ;  it  had  now 
burst  upon  his  head.  The  danger  was  before  him.  My 
father  said  that  the  pious  expression  of  the  King's 
countenance  showed  how  he  viewed  his  situation.  He 
judged  it  as  a  Christian  if  he  did  not  judge  it  as  a  King. 

Before  the  Revolution  of  the  i4th  of  July  M.  Necker 
had  been  dismissed.  He  was  recalled  after  that  event. 
From  this  indecision  it  was  clear  that  the  ship  had  no 
pilot.  At  this  period  a  report  which  had  long  been  cir- 
culated assumed  a  semblance  of  truth.  The  Due  d'Or- 
leans had  been  accused  of  being  the  head  of  a  party, 
and  the  newspapers  of  the  day  employed  his  name  in 
the  hints  which  they  daily  set  forth  that  France  should 
follow  the  example  of  England. 

The  Due  d'Orleans  was  fixed  upon,  because,  in  the 
English  Revolution,  the  direct  line  of  the  royal  family 
had  been  expelled  in  favor  of  the  Prince  of  Orange. 
The  thing  was  so  often  repeated  that  the  Due  d'Orleans 
began  at  last  to  believe  that  he  might  place  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  party  and  become  the  leader  of  a  faction  without 
the  qualification  for  such  an  office.  Robespierre  and 
others  set  the  Due  d'Orleans  forward,  because  they 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTfiS  49 

wanted  something  that  would  please  the  moderate  and 
reasonable  party.  That  party  allowed  itself  to  be  caught 
in  the  snare. 

I  recollect,  as  though  they  were  terrible  dreams,  the 
i4th  of  July,  the  6th  of  October,  the  aist  of  June,  and 
several  other  days  which  formed  the  most  fatal  in  the 
calendar.  On  the  6th  of  October,  in  particular,  I  remem- 
ber, seeing  my  mother,  at  three  in  the  afternoon,  order- 
ing the  servants  to  shut  the  drawing-room  shutters  which 
looked  on  the  quay.  My  father  wished  to  go  to  Ver- 
sailles; but  she  wept  and  held  him  by  the  arm,  entreat- 
ing him  not  to  leave  us. 

My  father,  alarmed  at  the  aspect  of  affairs,  which  was 
every  day  becoming  more  threatening,  converted  his 
property  into  English  stock,  and  set  off  with  my  brother 
to  London.  There  he  remained  for  some  weeks,  and 
then  returned  to  France,  leaving  my  brother  in  England 
to  await  his  further  instructions. 

Many  events  occurred  in  our  family  during  the  absence 
of  my  brother.  My  father's  constitutional  principles  were 
well  known,  and  yet  his  attachment  to  the  King  led  him 
into  several  disputes.  He  fought  a  duel  with  M.  de 

Som le,  an  officer  in  my  brother's  regiment,  who,  in 

my  father's  presence,  made  some  remarks  on  the  opinions 

of  Albert.  M.  de  Som le  was  slightly  wounded  in 

the  arm,  but  my  father  escaped  unhurt. 

At  that  period  a  family  who  kept  many  servants  could 
not  be  sure  of  all.  My  father  took  all  possible  precautions. 
The  duel  was  not  known,  it  is  true;  but  the  quarrel 
which  gave  rise  to  it  was  repeated  with  various  commen- 
taries. This  was  attended  by  dangerous  consequences. 

In  the  preceding  year  a  man,  who  said  he  was  an 
upholsterer,  established  himself  in  a  little  shop  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Mint.  He  came  to  request  my 
mother's  custom;  but  he  was  informed  that  she  had  al- 
ready an  upholsterer  whom  she  was  not  inclined  to  dis- 
card for  a  stranger.  He  was  insolent,  and  a  dispute 
arose  between  him  and  the  servant.  The  noise  drew  my 
father  to  the  door,  and  the  result  was  that  M.  Thirion 
was  turned  out  of  the  house.  My  father  and  the  rest  of 
the  family  thought  no  more  about  this  affair,  but  Thirion 
remembered  it,  and  he  vowed  deadly  hatred  against  us. 
The  Sections  were  formed.  This  man  acquired  some 
4 


50  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

influence  in  ours.  He  became  secretary,  clerk,  or  I  know 
not  what.  A  few  days  after  my  father's  return  from 
England  a  domiciliary  visit  was  made  to  our  house.  It 
was  under  the  direction  of  Thirion,  who  had  probably 
instigated  it. 

My  father  had  just  risen  and  was  shaving,  when,  to 
his  surprise,  Thirion  entered  his  dressing  room  and  in- 
formed him  that  he  had  come  to  inquire  his  age,  his 
qualifications,  and  the  object  of  his  recent  journey.  My 
father  insisted  on  seeing  his  authority,  and  Thirion  re- 
fused to  show  it.  My  father  flew  into  a  violent  rage, 
and,  seizing  on  a  large  stick,  would  probably  have  in- 
sisted on  inflicting  a  severe  chastisement  on  Thirion  but 
for  my  mother's  intercession ;  Thirion  took  his  departure, 
after  declaring  that  he  should  make  a  report  against  my 
father. 

In  the  midst  of  the  agitation  into  which  this  scene 
threw  my  mother  and  me,  Napoleon  Bonaparte  happened 
to  call.  On  being  informed  of  what  had  taken  place  he 
expressed  great  indignation,  and  immediately  repaired  to 
the  Section,  the  club,  the  committee,  or  whatever  might 
be  the  authority  which  at  that  time  ordered  domiciliary 
visits.  Thirion  had  already  made  his  report;  but  Na- 
poleon, nevertheless,  animadverted  strongly  on  Thirion's 
refusal  to  produce  his  order.  "If,"  said  he,  "  M.  de 
Permon  had  fired  a  pistol  at  that  man,  he  would  only 
have  been  defending  his  house  against  an  insolent  in- 
truder, and  no  one  could  have  blamed  him." 

This  happened  on  the  7th  or  8th  of  August.  The 
xoth  was  a  day  which  I  shall  never  forget.  It  was  the 
day  of  my  ftte,  and  hitherto  I  had  always  spent  it  hap- 
pily. Some  of  my  young  friends  had  been  invited  to 
visit  me,  and  my  little  chamber  was  filled  with  flowers, 
toys,  and  sweetmeats.  But  our  festival  day  proved  a 
day  of  mourning. 

In  the  streets  the  cries  of  the  people  mingled  with 
the  thundering  of  artillery  and  the  groans  of  the  wounded. 
About  noon  my  brother  entered  with  one  of  his  com- 
panions-in-arms,  who  was  wrapped  in  a  greatcoat.  The 
young  man  had  tasted  nothing  for  forty  hours,  and  he 
had  just  escaped  from  the  pursuit  of  those  who  would 
have  massacred  him  if  they  had  found  him.  His  family 
lay  under  great  obligations  to  the  Queen.  His  duty  and 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  51 

his  opinions  happened  to  coincide.  In  the  course  of  a 
few  days  he  had  fought  three  duels,  two  of  which  had 
terminated  fatally. 

One  of  his  deceased  adversaries  was  a  relation  of 
Manuel ;  consequently  there  was  everything  to  fear.  The 
young  gentleman  was  concealed  in  my  little  apartment, 
and  I  received  instructions  as  to  the  answers  I  should 
give  in  case  of  the  house  being  searched.  The  cautious 
prudence  I  had  then  to  observe  in  behalf  of  a  stranger 
afterward  became  useful  to  me  when  those  I  most 
dearly  loved  were  in  similar  danger. 

My  father  was  out,  and  my  mother  had  anxiously 
expected  his  return  for  several  hours.  My  brother  went 
frequently  to  the  gate  to  look  for  him.  He  even  ven- 
tured as  far  as  the  quay,  where  he  heard  of  the  depo- 
sition of  the  King,  but  could  see  nothing  of  my  father. 
The  storm  seemed  to  be  subsiding,  but  the  firing  of 
musketry  was  still  heard  at  intervals.  Night  was  draw- 
ing in,  and  my  father  had  not  yet  returned.  My  brother 
again  went  down  to  the  gate  to  look  for  him,  and  he 
saw  a  man  quickly  turn  round  the  corner  of  our  hotel. 

He  immediately  recognized  the  figure  of  my  father. 
He  called  to  him,  and  my  father  advanced,  looking 
cautiously  behind  him.  He  desired  my  brother  to  leave 
the  door  open,  observing  that  he  was  merely  going 
round  the  corner  to  fetch  a  person  who  was  in  the  col- 
onnade of  the  Mint.  He  returned,  bringing1  with  him  a 
gentleman  who  was  scarcely  able  to  walk.  He  was  lean- 
ing on  the  arm  of  my  father,  who  conducted  him  silently 
to  a  bedchamber. 

Alas!  when  the  wounded  man  threw  off  the  large  mil- 
itary cloak  which  enveloped  him,  what  was  our  distress 
to  recognize  M.  de  Bevy!  He  was  pale  and  faint,  and 
the  blood  was  flowing  copiously  from  his  wounds.  Tran- 
quillity was  not  restored  during  the  whole  of  the  night. 
Owing  to  the  situation  of  our  house,  we  were  in  greater 
safety  than  many  of  our  neighbors,  for  we  were  less  in 
sight,  and  more  out  of  hearing  of  the  threats  and  impre- 
cations uttered  by  the  crowds  who  paraded  Paris  during 
the  whole  of  the  night. 

On  the  morning  of  the  nth  a  message  was  sent  by 
the  valet  de  chambre  of  my  brother's  young  friend,  in- 
forming him  that  he  was  in  great  danger,  as  Manuel 


52         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

was  making  strict  search  for  him.  A  strange  idea  then 
occurred  to  my  brother,  though  in  its  result  it  proved 
very  fortunate.  M.  de  Condorcet  lodged  at  that  time  in 
an  entresol  in  the  Mint.  My  brother  had  occasion  to  see 
him  several  times,  and  he  had  always  treated  him  in  a 
very  friendly  way.  My  brother  went  to  him.  I  do  not 
know  what  passed  in  the  interview,  but  Albert's  friend 
was  saved. 

My  father  entertained  no  fears  for  his  own  safety.  He 
was  engaged  in  writing  a  letter  for  M.  de  Bevy,  when  our 
butcher,  an  honest,  worthy  man,  who  was  a  lieutenant  or 
captain  in  the  National  Guards,  sent  to  inform  us  that 
my  father  had  been  denounced  for  having  harbored  ene- 
mies of  the  people. 

My  father  paid  little  attention  to  this  warning;  but  in 
about  an  hour  afterward  he  received  more  positive  in- 
formation that  he  would  be  arrested  that  very  night. 
The  individual  who  brought  him  this  information  added 
to  it  the  promise  of  a  passport  for  one  of  the  cities  in 
the  South  of  France,  and  undertook  to  conduct  my 
father,  accompanied  by  my  mother  (but  my  mother  only), 
out  of  Paris.  She  was  almost  distracted  at  the  thought 
of  leaving  her  children  behind  her  at  such  a  moment ;  but 
there  was  no  alternative. 

After  long  deliberation  as  to  what  would  be  the  best 
way  of  disposing  of  myself  and  my  sister,  it  was  deter- 
mined that  we  should  be  placed  at  a  boarding  school, 
and  that  my  brother  should  have  a  lodging  near  us. 
This  plan  was  no  sooner  resolved  on  than  executed,  and 
before  night  my  sister  and  I  were  installed  in  a  boarding 
school  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine,  kept  by  Mesde- 
moiselles  Chevalier. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTfiS  53 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Murder  of  Madame  de  Lamballe  — Our  Removal  to  Toulouse  — My 
Father  Summoned  before  the  Section  —  My  Mother's  Letter  to 
Salicetti  —  He  Makes  My  Brother  His  Secretary  —  Death  of  the  King 
and  Madame  Elizabeth  —  My  Father's  Illness — Friendly  Warning 
of  Couder  —  Our  Journey  to  the  Waters  of  Cauterets  —  Death  of 
Robespierre. 

MY  SISTER  and  I  were  wretched  during  the  time  we 
remained  at  the  boarding  school.  Our  only  inter- 
vals of  happiness  were  when  my  brother  came  to 
see  us,  which  he  did  as  often  as  he  could.  One  day, 
when  my  brother  came  to  pay  us  a  visit,  he  perceived  as 
he  came  along  groups  of  individuals  whose  sanguinary 
drunkenness  was  horrible.  Many  were  naked  to  the 
waist,  and  their  arms  and  breasts  were  covered  with  blood. 
They  bore  tattered  garments  upon  their  pikes  and  swords. 
Their  countenances  were  inflamed,  and  their  eyes  hag- 
gard; in  short,  their  appearance  was  hideous.  These 
groups  became  more  frequent  and  more  numerous. 

My  brother,  in  his  uneasiness  about  us,  determined  to 
come  to  us  at  all  risks,  and  drove  rapidly  along  the 
Boulevard  until  he  arrived  opposite  the  house  of  Beau- 
marchais.  There  he  was  stopped  by  an  immense  mob, 
composed  also  of  half-naked  individuals  besmeared  with 
blood,  and  who  had  the  appearance  of  demons  incarnate. 
They  vociferated,  sang,  and  danced.  It  was  the  Saturnalia 
of  Hell !  On  perceiving  Albert's  cabriolet  they  cried  out : 

(<  Let  it  be  taken  to  him!  Let  it  be  taken  to  him!  He 
is  an  aristocrat ! }> 

In  a  moment  the  cabriolet  was  surrounded  by  the 
multitude,  and  from  the  middle  of  the  crowd  an  object 
seemed  to  arise  and  approach.  My  brother's  troubled 
sight  did  not  enable  him  at  first  to  perceive  long  auburn 
tresses  clotted  with  blood,  and  a  countenance  even  still 
lovely.  The  object  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until  it  was 
opposite  to  him.  My  unhappy  brother  uttered  an  in- 
voluntary shriek.  He  had  recognized  the  head  of  Madame 
de  Lamballe !  * 

*  During  the  horrible  massacres  of  September,  1792,  the  Princesse  de 
Lamballe  was  seized  and  carried,  in  the  first  instance,  to  the  prison  of 


54  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

We  received  a  letter  from  my  mother,  dated  Toulouse. 
She  and  my  father  had  fixed  their,  temporary  abode  in 
that  city,  and  they  desired  us  to  join  them.  We  accord- 
ingly left  Paris  for  that  purpose.  We  lodged  in  the 
house  of  M.  de  Montauriol,  President  of  the  Parliament 
of  Toulouse.  It  was  situated  in  the  finest  part  of  the 
town,  and  was  divided  between  four  families.  We  were 
no  sooner  established  in  our  new  abode  than  my  father 
was  summoned  to  appear  before  the  President  of  the 
Section  or  district.  My  father  was  in  such  a  state  of 
irritability  that  my  mother  would  not  suffer  him  to  go, 
and  my  brother  went  in  his  stead. 

It  was  some  time  before  my  brother  could  make  the 
worthy  magistrate  comprehend  that  the  citizen  Permon 
he  saw  before  him  was  not  citizen  Permon  THE  ELDER, 
and  that  the  latter  was  too  ill  to  attend.  When  at  length 
this  was  explained  to  him  after  considerable  difficulty,  he 
exclaimed: 

<(  And  what  do  you  do  here  ?  coward !  aristocrat !  why 
are  you  not  with  the  army  ? }> 

My  brother  replied  that  he  was  not  with  the  army  be- 
cause, his  father  being  ill,  his  mother  and  sisters  required 
his  protection.  However,  this  explanation  was  not  con- 
La  Force.  She  was  afterward  removed  to  the  Abbey,  to  be  questioned 
before  two  ferocious  men  of  the  name  of  Hebert  and  L'Hullier,  ap- 
pointed to  sit  as  judges.  The  following  is  the  whole  of  her  trial :  Ques- 
tion. Who  are  you? — Answer.  Maria  Louisa,  Princess  of  Savoy.  Q. 
Your  quality? — A.  Superintendent  of  the  Queen's  Household.  Q.  Had 
you  any  knowledge  of  the  plots  of  the  Court  on  the  loth  of  August? — A. 
I  do  not  know  that  there  were  any  plots  on  the  loth  of  August ;  but  this 
(  know,  that  I  had  no  knowledge  of  them.  Q.  Will  you  swear  to  lib- 
erty, equality,  and  a  detestation  of  the  King,  the  Queen,  and  Royalty? 
— A.  I  shall  readily  swear  to  the  first  two,  but  I  cannot  swear  to  the 
last,  as  I  have  no  such  sentiment  in  my  heart.  A  bystander  whispered, 
<(!F  YOU  DO  NOT  SWEAR,  YOU  ARE  A  DEAD  WOMAN.*  She  was  led  into  a 
court  of  the  prison  already  strewn  with  dead  bodies,  where,  on  receiv- 
ing the  blow  of  a  dagger,  she  fell,  fainting  with  the  loss  of  blood ;  and 
soon  afterward  her  body  was  pierced  by  a  lance,  and  her  noble  spirit 
fled.  We  dare  not  relate  all  the  horrors  and  indignities  that  were 
heaped  on  her.  Her  head  was  cut  off,  and  carried  through  Paris  to  the 
Palais  Royal,  and  exposed  beneath  the  window  of  the  Due  d'Orleans, 
who  gazed  on  it  for  awhile  without  uttering  a  syllable.  He  was  charged 
with  being  privy  to  this  murder  by  the  double  motive  of  revenge  and 
interest ;  for,  by  her  death,  he  gained  her  jointure  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand crowns,  which  she  received  out  of  the  fortune  of  the  Duchesse 
d'Orleans,  who  was  her  sister-in-law. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  55 

sidered  satisfactory,  and  my  brother  narrowly  escaped 
being  arrested  on  the  spot.  When  he  returned  home  he 
was  in  great  distress  and  alarm.  He  consulted  my  mother 
on  the  means  of  securing  my  father's  safety;  and  she, 
with  the  admirable  spirit  and  presence  of  mind  which 
never  forsook  her,  determined  to  write  to  her  country- 
man, Salicetti,  who  was  then  in  Paris  awaiting  the  King's 
trial. 

My  father  had  been  intimately  acquainted  with  M. 
Durosoi,  who  edited  a  journal  entitled  ^L'Anti  du  Roi* 
M.  Durosoi,  who  was  firmly  wedded  to  his  own  opinions, 
happened  to  meet  Salicetti  one  day  in  my  father's  house, 
and  a  warm  discussion  arose  between  them,  my  father 
supporting  the  arguments  of  Durosoi,  and  my  mother 
those  of  Salicetti.  The  latter  left  the  house  out  of  humor, 
and  the  course  of  events  obliged  my  mother  and  father 
to  quit  Paris  before  they  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
him  again. 

My  mother  feared  that  he  .might  bear  in  mind  the  part 
my  father  had  taken  in  the  discussion  above  mentioned ; 
and  this  fear  was  not  so  unfounded  as  it  may  appear. 
My  father's  opinions  might  be  expected  to  influence  his 
conduct  as  well  as  his  language ;  and  this  reflection  would 
naturally  occur  to  the  man  who  was  asked  to  be  a  sort 
of  security  for  him.  My  mother  felt  this  difficulty,  but 
she  nevertheless  determined  to  write.  The  letter  was 
that  of  a  wife  and  a  mother.  She  appealed  to  his  past 
friendship,  to  the  remembrance  of  their  common  coun- 
try, and  concluded  by  assuring  Salicetti  that  she  should 
owe  to  him  the  lives  of  her  husband  and  her  chil- 
dren. 

The  danger  was  no  doubt  great,  but  perhaps  not  so 
great  as  my  mother's  fears  led  her  to  imagine  —  at  least, 
as  far  as  regarded  my  father.  My  brother  was  really  in 
much  greater  danger;  for  he  was  required  to  join  the 
army,  and  to  do  that  would  have  been  to  march  to  cer- 
tain death,  for  the  fatigues  he  had  already  undergone 
had  brought  on  a  pulmonary  inflammation. 

By  the  next  courier,  Salicetti  returned  an  exceedingly 
kind  answer  to  my  mother's  letter.  After  thanking  her 
for  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  serve  her,  he  informed 
her  that  he  had  placed  her  husband  under  the  immediate 
protection  of  the  authorities  of  Toulouse.  As  to  my 


56  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

brother,  he  appointed  him  his  secretary,  and  sent  him  his 
nomination,  together  with  leave  to  spend  three  months 
with  his  family. 

My  brother  accepted  the  offer  of  Salicetti,  though  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  my  father,  whose  feelings  were  at 
that  time  so  deeply  wounded  that  we  did  not  think  it 
advisable  to  add  to  his  distress  by  requiring  him  to  con- 
sent to  such  a  step.  In  a  very  grateful  letter,  my 
brother  informed  Salicetti  that  he  should  join  him  in  the 
month  of  March  following.  He  was  then  twenty-four 
years  of  age. 

Meanwhile  the  King's  fate  was  decided.  This  was  a 
great  blow  to  my  poor  father,  who  was  greatly  attached 
to  his  Sovereign.  American  liberalism  had  had  an  influ- 
ence upon  him  as  well  as  upon  all  who  had  served  in  the 
American  war;  his  opinions  were  fixed,  and  he  was  never 
happier  than  on  the  day  when  the  King  accepted  the  Con- 
stitution. On  this  point  my  father's  opinions  coincided 
with  those  of  the  great  majority  of  the  nation ;  and  while 
the  illusion  lasted,  that  we  had  or  could  have  a  constitu- 
tional Sovereign,  joy  and  satisfaction  predominated. 

When  the  fate  of  the  King  was  made  known  in  the 
provinces,  the  grief  it  excited  was  sincere  and  profound, 
for,  as  a  man,  Louis  XVI.  was  universally  beloved.  My 
father  owed  much  to  the  King,  and  much  also  to  Ma- 
dame Elizabeth.  He  trembled  for  his  benefactress,  and 
the  blow  he  had  already  received  became  mortal  when 
he  saw  the  death  of  Madame  Elizabeth  announced  in  the 
journals.  He  had  already  been  partially  confined  to  his 
chamber;  but  he  now  shut  himself  up  entirely,  and  kept 
his  bed  for  whole  days  together. 

We  had  brought  with  us  from  Paris  only  my  father's 
valet  de  chambre.  My  mother  was  therefore  obliged  to 
hire  domestics  at  Toulouse.  These  servants  gossiped  to 
their  acquaintances  about  my  father,  and  the  most  ridicu- 
lous stories  respecting  the  cause  of  his  supposed  disap- 
pearance were  soon  circulated  about  the  town. 

There  was  a  shoemaker,  named  Couder,  who  exercised 
great  influence  in  the  Commune.  This  man,  whose  name 
I  never  utter  without  gratitude,  warned  my  mother  of 
the  reports  which  were  circulated  respecting  my  father. 
He  was  to  be  summoned  and  interrogated,  and  in  that 
case  he  would  have  been  ruined.  We  had  then  a  repre- 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  57 

sentative  of  the  people  who  certainly  would  not  have  tol- 
erated my  father's  answers. 

At  that  time  my  brother  was  with  Salicetti.  My  mother 
wrote  to  him,  and  the  next  post  brought  back  a  letter  in 
Salicetti's  own  handwriting,  containing  testimonials  in  fa- 
vor of  my  father,  and  recommending  him  to  his  col- 
league.* Couder's  opinions  were  those  of  a  stanch  and 
sincere  Republican.  His  merit  was  therefore  the  greater 
in  what  he  did  for  us,  for  he  was  aware  of  my  father's 
sentiments.  <(  All  I  want, w  said  he  to  my  mother,  <(  is 
your  promise  that  you  will  not  emigrate.  When  I  see 
the  French  going  abroad  they  appear  to  me  like  chil- 
dren abandoning  their  parents.* 

My  mother  had  for  two  years  been  suffering  from  a 
complaint  of  the  chest.  She  was  recommended  to  try  the 
waters  of  Cauterets,  and  she  set  off,  taking  me  and  my 
sister  with  her.  My  father  could  not  accompany  us; 
indeed,  he  remained  behind  almost  as  a  hostage.  On 
our  return  from  Cauterets  we  found  him  still  very  ill. 
Public  affairs  maintained  a  gloomy  and  threatening 
aspect.  Robespierre  had  perished;  but  the  revolutionary 
executions  still  continued.  Terror  was  not  yet  sufficiently 
abated  to  admit  of  a  free  expression  of  the  joy  which 
the  intelligence  of  his  death  excited  in  the  provinces. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Arrest  of  Bonaparte  —  His  Conduct  in  Corsica  —  Jacobin  Club — Bona- 
parte Disguised  as  a  Sailor  —  Bonaparte,  Junot,  and  Robespierre 
the  Younger  —  Friendship  Between  Bonaparte  and  Junot  —  Rivalry 
of  Bonaparte  and  Salicetti  —  Examination  of  Bonaparte's  Papers  — 
Erasure  of  His  Name  from  the  List  of  Generals. 

AFTER  our  return  to  Toulouse  my  mother  received  let- 
ters  from   my  brother  which   much    distressed  her. 
They  informed  her  of   the  arrest  of   General  Bona- 
parte,   and    the    circumstances    which    had    caused    that 
measure.       Albert     was    very     indignant.       He     thought 
Salicetti's   conduct  in   that  affair  was    not  what    it  ought 
to  have    been  to  a    countryman  and   an    old  friend.     My 

*A  man  named  Mallarme. 


58  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

mother  wrote  to  Salicetti,  expressing  the  pain  she  felt 
on  hearing  of  Bonaparte's  arrest.  (( Do  not,*  she  said, 
"let  his  mother  add  this  new  affliction  to  those  with 
which  she  is  already  burdened.* 

My  brother  delivered  this  letter  to  Salicetti,  and  in  his 
mother's  name  implored  a  favorable  answer.  After  hav- 
ing read  it,  Salicetti  said  to  my  brother: 

<(  Inform  Madame  Permon  that  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  do 
what  she  wishes  for  General  Bonaparte.  But  you  must 
see  yourself  that  the  thing  is  impossible.  The  intelli- 
gence which  I  have  received  from  Corsica  would  dictate 
the  step  1  have  taken,  even  if  the  affairs  of  Genoa  did 
not  render  it  indispensable.  Are  you  not  of  my  opinion, 
Permon  ?" 

My  brother  could  not  answer  (<  Yes, w  for  he  was  not 
of  Salicetti's  opinion.  Bonaparte  was  accused  of  being  a 
spy,  and  my  brother  did  not  think  him  guilty.  Besides, 
he  thought  that,  at  all  events,  it  did  not  become  Salicetti 
to  accuse  him  of  Jacobinism.  He  therefore  remained 
silent. 

On  the  subject  of  the  affairs  of  Corsica,  about  which 
so  much  was  said  by  Salicetti  and  Albitte,  I  have  been 
furnished  with  some  details  by  an  eyewitness  competent 
by  his  intelligence  and  information  to  observe  all  that 
was  passing.  They  are  as  follows: 

In  the  spring  of  1793,  Bonaparte,  before  he  went  to 
Toulon,  having  obtained  leave  of  absence,  visited  Corsica. 
At  Ajaccio  he  lodged  near  the  seaport  in  the  house  of 
an  old  lady,  the  Comtesse  Rossi,  a  friend  of  his  family. 
A  club  was  formed  in  a  barrack  situated  without  the  city, 
in  what  is  called  the  Sea-square.  In  this  club  several 
orators  distinguished  themselves,  and  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
was  a  frequent  speaker. 

Some  of  the  inhabitants  at  Ajaccio,  alarmed  at  the 
formidable  aspect  of  this  club,  established  another  assem- 
bly, which  was  attended  by  several  persons  of  my 
acquaintance;  among  others  by  a  naval  officer,  whose 
ship  was  lying  in  the  roads  of  Corsica,  and  who  by  his 
talent  and  courage  was  very  capable  of  counteracting 
the  measures  of  the  first-mentioned  club  should  they 
have  become  dangerous.  This  assembly  was  held  in  a 
large  house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  square.  Its 
object  was  to  maintain  tranquillity  and  prevent  disorder. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  59 

The  club  of  which  Bonaparte  was  a  member  at  length 
became  so  threatening  to  the  public  tranquillity  that  the 
moderate  assembly  resolved  to  send  a  deputation  to  it  to 
point  out  the  mischief  it  was  likely  to  occasion  to  the 
country.  They  advised  the  club  to  be  peaceable  —  above 
all,  to  wait  for  the  decision  of  France,  and  to  follow  the 
movement  of  the  Republican  Government. 

Bonaparte  immediately  mounted  the  tribune,  and 
delivered  a  vehement  speech,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
show  that  in  times  of  revolution  people  must  be  either 
friends  or  enemies,  that  Solon  punished  with  death  every 
man  who  remained  neutral  in  civil  discord,  and  that  the 
moderates  ought,  therefore,  to  be  considered  enemies  by 
true  patriots.  When  the  sitting  was  at  an  end  Napoleon 
went  out  into  the  square.  He  was  very  much  heated, 
and  seemed  but  little  disposed  to  anything  conciliating. 
However,  his  violence  did  not  intimidate  my  friend  who 
was  at  the  head  of  the  deputation.  He  reproached  him 
for  what  he  had  said  in  the  tribune. 

(<  Bah, >J  said  Bonaparte,  <(  a  mere  club  speech,  nothing 
else.  But,  my  friend,  do  you  not  see  the  necessity  of 
firmness,  and  of  choosing  a  wide  road  instead  of  a  nar- 
row path  ?  * 

"You,*  replied  the  naval  officer,  <(  will  perhaps  lose 
yourself  in  the  road  you  have  chosen;  and  in  the  name 
of  friendship  I  conjure  you  to  alter  your  course. "  Bona- 
parte frowned,  turned  on  his  heel,  and  went  off  to  join 
some  of  his  turbulent  colleagues. 

Some  days  afterward  my  friend  learned  from  some  of 
his  correspondents  in  the  interior  of  the  island  that  four 
thousand  peasants  intended  to  make  a  descent  from  the 
mountains,  and  that  their  hostility  would  be  especially 
directed  against  the  families  of  Salicetti  and  Bonaparte. 
My  friend  warned  Bonaparte  of  the  danger.  Napoleon 
wished  to  know  whence  he  had  obtained  the  informa- 
tion He  was  exceedingly  angry  because  my  friend 
would  not  tell  him.  At  length  he  said,  w  No  matter,  I 
fear  no  one." 

He  parted  from  him  very  coolly.  Early  next  morning 
a  man  came  to  inform  him  that  he  had  just  seen  Bona- 
parte in  the  disguise  of  a  sailor  stepping  into  a  felucca 
for  the  purpose  of  proceeding  to  Calvi.  My  friend  went 
out  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  this  statement,  which  was 


60  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

corroborated  by  the  sailors  of  the  port.  On  inquiring 
what  had  become  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  he  was  in- 
formed they  had  taken  refuge  at  Cargesa. 

At  the  time  when  these  circumstances  occurred,  Bona- 
parte had  just  received  his  commission  of  captain  of  ar- 
tillery. Shortly  after  he  was  sent  to  Toulon  to  com- 
mand the  works  of  the  siege.  About  this  period  of  his 
life  Bonaparte  was  very  intimate  with  Robespierre  the 
younger,  with  whom  Junot  was  also  well  acquainted. 
Young  Robespierre  was  what  might  be  called  an  agree- 
able young  man,  animated  by  no  bad  sentiments,  and 
believing,  or  feigning  to  believe,  that  his  brother  was 
led  on  by  a  parcel  of  wretches,  every  one  of  whom  he 
would  banish  to  Cayenne  if  he  were  in  his  place. 

On  his  arrival  at  Toulon,  Bonaparte  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  warm  patriot.  Junot  has  frequently  told 
me  that  the  general-in-chief,  who  was  very  moderate,  at 
first  entertained  a  sort  of  prejudice  against  the  young 
officer,  whose  opinions  he  seemed  to  regard  as  much  too 
violent. 

The  mission  given  to  Bonaparte  by  the  representative 
Ricord,  on  the  25th  Messidor,  year  ii.,  was  rather  diplo- 
matic than  military.  In  short,  it  was  an  order  for  su- 
pervision and  inquisition.  He  was  especially  instructed 
to  keep  a  watchful  eye  upon  the  French  Minister  and 
Charg^  d'affaires  at  Genoa.  It  is  therefore  evident  that 
he  enjoyed  the  full  confidence  of  the  Proconsuls,  who 
then  had  the  control  of  everything,  and  this  confidence 
could  only  have  resulted  from  the  knowledge  of  his 
opinions  and  sentiments.  Bonaparte  was  then  only  five- 
and-twenty  years  of  age.  Ricord  must  therefore  have 
been  very  confident  of  his  abilities. 

Salicetti  succeeded  Ricord,  and  it  was  naturally  to  be 
expected  that  Bonaparte  would  enjoy  the  protection  of 
the  new  representative.  They  were  countrymen,  and 
even  friends,  in  spite  of  the  difference  of  their  age;  and 
though  Salicetti  came  in  immediately  after  a  reaction,  it 
is  very  certain  that  lie  entertained  what  was  called 
TERRORIST  opinions. 

When  Bonaparte  was  arrested,  Junot,  who  loved  him 
affectionately,  determined  to  save  him  either  by  artifice 
or  force.  The  punishments  of  the  Reign  of  Terror  were 
not  yet  at  an  end,  and  an  individual  who  was  the  object 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  61 

of  any  accusation  whatever  was  in  great  danger.  Bona- 
parte, however,  forbade  Junot  to  resort  to  any  violence. 
(<  I  am  innocent, w  said  he,  (<  and  I  will  trust  to  the  laws.  * 
The  following1  is  a  letter  which  Bonaparte  wrote  from  his 
prison  to  Junot: 

« I  see  a  strong  proof  of  your  friendship,  my  dear  Junot,  in  the 
proposition  you  make  to  me,  and  I  trust  you  feel  convinced  that  the 
friendly  sentiments  that  I  have  long  entertained  for  you  remain  un- 
abated. Men  may  be  unjust  toward  me,  my  dear  Junot,  but  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  know  that  I  am  innocent.  My  conscience  is  the  tri- 
bunal before  which  I  try  my  conduct.  That  conscience  is  calm  when 
I  question  it.  Do  not,  therefore,  stir  in  this  business.  You  will  only 
compromise  me.  Adieu,  my  dear  Junot.  Yours, 

(<  BONAPARTE.* 

This  letter  was  an  answer  to  one  which  Junot  had  sent 
him  by  a  soldier,  within  the  first  twenty-four  hours  after 
his  arrest,  when  he  was  not  permitted  to  see  him.  I  do  not 
know  why  Junot  was  refused  admittance  to  him,  but  I 
think  it  was  because  orders  had  been  given  to  keep  Bona- 
parte in  solitary  confinement.  Junot,  in  his  letter,  pro- 
posed to  aid  him  in  effecting  his  escape,  and  suggested 
some  plans  which  could  only  have  entered  the  head  of  an 
enthusiastic  young  man  like  himself.*  He  declared  his 
determination  to  share  his  imprisonment,  even  if  it  were 
doomed  to  be  eternal. 

One  motive,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  the  only  one,  of  the 
animosity  shown  by  Salicetti  to  Bonaparte,  in  the  affair 
of  Loano,  was,  that  they  were  at  one  time  suitors  to  the 
same  lady.  I  am  not  sure  whether  it  was  in  Corsica  or 
in  Paris,  but  I  know  for  a  fact  that  Bonaparte,  in  spite 
of  his  youth,  or  perhaps  I  should  rather  say  on  account  of 
his  youth,  was  the  favored  lover. 

It  was  the  opinion  of  my  brother,  who,  as  I  have 
already  mentioned,  was  secretary  to  Salicetti,  that  Bona- 
part  owed  his  life  to  a  circumstance  which  is  not  very 
well  known.  The  fact  is  that  Salicetti  received  a  letter 
from  Bonaparte,  the  contents  of  which  appeared  to  make 
a  deep  impression  on  him.  Bonaparte's  papers  had  been 
delivered  into  Salicetti's  hands,  who,  after  an  attentive 
perusal  of  them,  laid  them  aside  with  evident  dissatisfac' 
tion.  He  then  took  them  up  again,  and  read  them  a 

*  Madame  Mere,  the  mother  of  Bonaparte,  always  entertained  a 
grateful  recollection  of  Junot's  conduct  at  this  period. 


62  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

second  time.  Salicetti  declined  my  brother's  assistance 
in  the  examination  of  the  papers,  and  after  a  second 
examination,  which  was  probably  as  unsatisfactory  as  the 
first,  he  seated  himself  with  a  very  abstracted  air.  It 
would  appear  that  he  had  seen  among  the  papers  some 
document  which  concerned  himself. 

Another  curious  fact  is,  that  the  man  who  had  the  care 
of  the  papers  after  they  were  sealed  up  was  an  inferior 
clerk  entirely  under  the  control  of  Salicetti;  and  my 
brother,  whose  business  it  was  to  have  charge  of  the 
papers,  was  directed  not  to  touch  them.  He  has  often 
spoken  to  me  of  this  circumstance,  and  I  mention  it  here 
as  one  of  importance  to  the  history  of  the  time.  Nothing 
that  relates  to  a  man  like  Napoleon  can  be  considered 
useless  or  trivial. 

What,  after  all,  was  the  result  of  this  strange  business 
which  might  have  cost  Bonaparte  his  head?  —  for,  had  he 
been  taken  to  Paris  and  tried  by  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety,  there  is  little  doubt  that  the  friend  of  Robespierre 
the  younger  would  have  been  condemned  by  Billaud- 
Varennes  and  Collot  d'Herbois.  The  result  was  the 
acquittal  of  the  accused.  This  result  is  the  more  extraor- 
dinary, since  it  would  appear  that  at  that  time  Salicetti 
stood  in  fear  of  the  young  General. 

A  compliment  is  even  paid  to  Bonaparte  in  the  decree 
by  which  he  was  provisionally  restored  to  liberty.  That 
liberation  was  said  to  be  granted  on  the  consideration 
that  General  Bonaparte  might  be  useful  to  the  Republic. 
This  was  foresight ;  but  subsequently,  when  measures  were 
taken  which  rendered  Bonaparte  no  longer  an  object  of 
fear,  his  name  was  erased  from  the  list  of  general  officers, 
and  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  Cambace'res,  who  was  destined 
to  be  his  colleague  in  the  Consulate,  was  one  of  the  per- 
sons who  signed  the  act  of  erasure. 

Bonaparte,  who  was  then  very  unfortunately  situated, 
came  to  Paris  to  obtain  justice,  or  to  endeavor  to  put 
into  execution  some  of  the  thousand  projects  which,  as 
he  used  to  tell  us,  he  formed  every  night  when  he  lay 
down  to  rest.  He  had  with  him  only  one  aid-de-camp 
—  one  friend,  whom  his  adverse  fortune  attached  the  more 
strongly  to  him.  This  was  Junot,  who  from  that  moment 
gave  him  abundant  proofs  of  the  sincere  friendship  which 
never  terminated  but  with  his  life. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  63 

Duroc  was  not  connected  with  Bonaparte  until  the  lat- 
ter took  the  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy.  It  has  been 
frequently  asserted  that  they  were  acquainted  at  Toulon, 
but  this  is  a  mistake.  Bourrienne,  who  is  well  instructed 
in  all  these  details,  relates  these  facts  in  their  true  light. 
Salicetti  and  Bonaparte  were  not  good  friends,  for  the 
former  feared  his  young  compatriot,  and  they  were  never 
in  each  other's  confidence. 

The  opinion  of  Bonaparte,  after  he  became  Consul, 
respecting  the  men  of  the  Revolution,  is  well  known. 
He  employed  in  the  earlier  offices  statesmen  who  had 
taken  part  in  the  Revolution ;  but,  with  the  exception  of 
Fouche",  whom  he  never  liked,*  these  were  not  the  indi- 
viduals who  made  the  most  distinguished  figure  in  the 
revolutionary  history.  It  may  be  remembered  that  on 
the  occasion  of  the  Infernal  Machine,  he  made  a  furious 
attack,  in  the  Council  of  State,  on  those  whom  he  de- 
nominated the  men  of  blood  —  the  men  of  September. 
<(  France, w  said  he,  <(  will  never  be  happy  until  they  are 
driven  away.  It  is  they  who  do  all  the  mischief!  * 

*  <(  Fouch6  never  was  my  confidant, w  said  Napoleon.  «  Never  did 
he  approach  me  without  bending  to  the  ground.  For  HIM  I  never 
had  esteem.  As  a  man  who  had  been  a  Terrorist  and  a  chief  of 
Jacobins,  I  employed  him  as  an  instrument  to  discover  and  get  rid 
of  the  Jacobins,  Septembrists,  and  others  of  his  old  friends.  By 
means  of  him  I  was  enabled  to  send  into  banishment  to  the  Isle  of 
France  two  hundred  of  his  old  associate  Septembrists,  who  disturbed 
the  tranquillity  of  France.  He  betrayed  and  sacrificed  his  old 
camarades  and  participators  in  crime.  He  never  was  in  a  situation 
to  demand  my  confidence,  or  even  to  speak  to  me  without  being 
questioned,  nor  had  he  the  talents  requisite  for  it®  — «  Napoleon  at 
St.  Helena, »  by  O'Meara:  London,  Bentley,  edition  of  1888,  vol. 
ii.  pp.  191,  192. 


64  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER  X. 

M.  Brunetiere  —  Curious  Mode  of  Correspondence  —  My  Mother's 
Visit  to  Paris  —  The  Hotel  de  la  Tranquillite  —  Bonaparte's  Visit 
to  Us  —  Paris  after  the  gth  Thermidor  —  Bonaparte  and  the  Mus- 
cadins  —  Scarcity  of  Bread  —  The  Sections  Declaiming  against  the 
Convention  —  Politics  Banished  from  Conversation  —  Salicetti's 
Boots. 

My  FATHER  had  an  old  friend,  an  advocate,  named 
Brunetiere,  who  maintained  communications  with 
the  powerful  men  of  the  day,  and  who  informed 
him  of  all  that  was  going-  on  in  Paris  —  at  least,  as  far 
as  he  could  do  so  with  safety.  We  were  not  then  in  the 
height  of  the  Reign  of  Terror;  but  there  was  reason  to 
fear  that  the  revolutionary  flame  might  be  rekindled,  and 
caution  was  advisable.  It  was  no  unusual  thing  to  send 
letters  concealed  in  pies,  and  in  this  manner  questions 
and  answers  traveled  under  the  protection  of  gastro- 
nomic dainties.  News  was  frequently  sent  from  Paris  to 
the  country  in  the  lining  of  a  coat,  the  crown  of  a  hat, 
or  a  box  of  artificial  flowers.  It  was  customary  to  send 
with  these  packets  a  letter,  saying,  <(  In  compliance  with 
your  request,  I  send  you  such  or  such  a  thing. w 

My  mother  was  sometimes  very  reluctant  to  pull  to 
pieces  the  beautiful  articles  of  millinery  which  came 
from  Paris  in  this  way.  I  recollect  she  once  wore  a  hat 
in  which  a  letter  was  concealed  a  whole  fortnight,  with- 
out telling  my  father  where  it  came  from,  because  she 
knew  he  would  have  had  it  pulled  to  pieces  without 
mercy.  It  was  to  be  sure  at  a  moment  when  no  very 
interesting  news  was  likely  to  be  communicated! 

At  length  affairs  assumed  a  more  serene  aspect,  and 
my  father  received  repeated  invitations  to  proceed  to 
Paris.  My  mother,  finding  that  she  could  not  prevail  on 
him  to  go,  determined  herself  to  set  out  for  Paris,  and 
take  me  with  her;  and  it  was  agreed  that  my  father 
should  repair  to  Bordeaux,  where  he  had  some  business 
to  settle,  and  remain  there  during  my  mother's  absence. 
On  her  arrival  in  the  capital,  my  mother  was  to  ascer- 
tain whether  it  would  be  safe  for  my  father  to  join  her, 
and  to  determine  on  his  future  plans. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  65 

On  our  arrival  in  Paris,  we  alighted  at  the  Hotel  de  la 
Tranquillit^,  in  the  Rue  des  Filles  Saint  Thomas.  We 
were  lodged  in  a  very  good  suite  of  apartments  on  the 
second  floor,  overlooking  a  garden.  My  mother  had  only 
two  servants  with  her  —  a  femme  de  chambre  and  a  valet. 
My  brother  had  returned  to  Paris  in  company  with 
Salicetti,  but  he  was  no  longer  in  his  employment;  he 
had  given  up  the  situation  of  secretary  two  months 
before.  His  intention  was  to  go  to  Holland,  and  to 
enter  into  trade.  A  day  or  two  after  our  arrival,  my 
mother  received  visits  from  some  of  her  friends  who  had 
escaped  the  terrorist  proscription,  and  who  felt  as  if  they 
were  restored  to  a  new  life.  Among  the  number  was  M. 
de  Perigord,  who  owed  his  miraculous  preservation  to 
his  valet  de  chambre,  Beaulieu. 

Before  the  revolution  my  mother  had  been  acquainted 
with  many  Corsicans;  though  their  opinions  did  not 
coincide  with  her  own,  they  nevertheless  were  frequent 
visitors  at  her  house.  As  soon  as  they  knew  she  had 
returned,  they  all  flocked  to  see  her.  Among  them  were 
Moltedo,  the  Abbe  Arrighi,  Are"na,  Malicetti,  Chiappe, 
and,  above  all,  Bonaparte.  My  brother  Albert  had 
informed  him  of  my  mother's  arrival,  and  he  came  im- 
mediately to  see  us. 

I  may  say  that  it  was  then  I  first  knew  Bonaparte. 
Previously  I  had  only  a  confused  recollection  of  him. 
When  he  came  to  see  us  after  our  return  to  Paris,  his 
appearance  made  an  impression  upon  me  which  I  shall 
never  forget.  At  that  period  of  his  life  Bonaparte  was 
decidedly  ugly;  he  afterward  underwent  a  total  change. 
I  do  not  speak  of  the  illusive  charm  which  his  glory 
spread  around  him,  but  I  mean  to  say  that  a  gradual 
physical  change  took  place  in  him  in  the  space  of  seven 
years.  His  emaciated  thinness  was  converted  into  a 
fullness  of  face,  and  his  complexion,  which  had  been 
yellow  and  apparently  unhealthy,  became  clear  and  com- 
paratively fresh;  his  features,  which  were  angular  and 
sharp,  became  round  and  filled  out.  As  to  his  smile,  it 
was  always  agreeable. 

The  mode  of  dressing  his  hair,  which  has  such  a  droll 

appearance  as  we  see  it  in  the  prints  of   the   passage  of 

the    bridge    of    Arcola,   was    then    comparatively    simple; 

for  young  men  of  fashion  (the  muscadins],  whom  he  used 

5 


66  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

to  rail  at  so  loudly  at  that  time,  wore  their  hair  very 
long".  But  he  was  very  careless  of  his  personal  appear- 
ance ;  and  his  hair,  which  was  ill-combed  and  ill-powdered, 
give  him  the  look  of  a  sloven.  His  small  hands,  too, 
underwent  a  great  metamorphosis:  when  I  first  saw  him 
they  were  thin,  long,  and  dark;  but  he  was  subsequently 
vain  of  their  beauty,  and  with  good  reason. 

In  short,  when  I  recollect  Napoleon  entering  the  court- 
yard of  the  Hotel  de  la  Tranquillite  in  1793,  with  a  shabby, 
round  hat  drawn  over  his  forehead,  and  his  ill-powdered 
hair  hanging  over  the  collar  of  his  gray  greatcoat,  which 
afterward  became  as  celebrated  as  the  white  plume  of 
Henry  IV.,  without  gloves,  because  he  used  to  say  they 
were  a  useless  luxury,  with  boots  ill-made  and  ill-blacked, 
with  his  thinness  and  his  sallow  complexion;  in  fine, 
when  I  recollect  him  at  that  time,  and  think  what  he 
was  afterward,  I  do  not  see  the  same  man  in  the  two 
pictures. 

My  mother,  who  was  the  best-hearted  and  most  unaf- 
fected of  women,  frankly  expressed  all  the  pleasure  she 
felt  at  seeing  him  again.  She  spoke  to  him  of  Salicetti, 
whom,  she  said,  she  had  blamed  for  his  treatment  of 
him.  A  smile  passed  rapidly  over  the  lips  of  Bonaparte. 

(<  He  wished, w  said  he,  (<  to  ruin  me,  but  MY  STAR  pre- 
vented him.  However,  I  must  not  boast  of  my  star,  for 
who  knows  what  may  be  my  fate  ? w 

I  never  shall  forget  the  expression  of  his  countenance 
as  he  uttered  these  last  words.  My  mother  endeavored 
to  soothe  him,  and  she  succeeded  better  than  I  could 
have  imagined.  I  confess  that  I  was  much  surprised 
when  I  saw  Salicetti  and  Bonaparte  come  next  day  to 
dine  with  us,  to  all  appearance  very  good  friends. 

At  this  period  Paris  was  in  a  most  disturbed  state. 
Immediately  after  the  pth  Thermidor  the  members  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  were  accused.  It  was,  I 
think,  Legendre  who  attacked  Collot-d'Herbois,  Billaud- 
Varennes,  Barrere,  Amar-Vouland,  and  David.  This  at- 
tack took  place  about  the  loth  Fructidor.  Carrier  was 
also  brought  to  the  Convention,  but  it  was  to  be  con- 
demned. He  perished  on  the  z6th  Frimaire  following, 
and  it  must  be  confessed  that  his  last  moments  were  cer- 
tainly marked  by  courage.  It  is  true  that  courage  may 
be  an  attendant  on  crime  as  well  as  on  virtue. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  67 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  circumstances  that  we 
arrived  in  Paris.  On  the  day  of  our  arrival  M.  Brune- 
tiere  told  us  he  was  very  sorry  that  he  had  advised  us 
to  come.  Bonaparte  confirmed  his  apprehension.  He 
had  just  then  received  a  letter  from  his  mother,  in  which 
she  observed  that  the  reaction  would  probably  deluge 
the  south  of  France  in  blood. 

*  It  is  those  Royalist  coxcombs, w  said  Napoleon,  <(  who 
are  making  all  this  uproar.  They  would  be  very  glad 
to  glean  after  the  battle  of  the  patriots.  What  fools 
there  are  in  that  Convention!  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
that  Permon  has  not  adopted  the  ridiculous  fashion  of 
these  young  men.  They  are  all  worthless  Frenchmen.* 

Those  to  whom  Bonaparte  alluded  wore  gray  great- 
coats with  black  collars  and  green  cravats.  Their  hair, 
instead  of  being  it  la  Titus,  which  was  the  prevailing 
fashion  of  the  day,  was  powdered,  plaited,  and  turned 
up  with  a  comb,  while  on  each  side  of  the  face  hung 
two  long  curls  called  dogs'  ears  (preilles  de  chieri).  As 
these  young  men  were  very  frequently  attacked,  they 
carried  about  with  them  large  sticks,  which  were  not 
always  merely  weapons  of  defense;  for  the  frays  which 
arose  in  Paris  at  that  time  were  often  provoked  by  them. 

The  scarcity  of  bread  and  the  necessaries  of  life  now  be- 
gan to  be  sensibly  felt.  My  sister  secretly  sent  us  flour 
from  the  south.  In  so  doing  she  was  obliged  to  resort 
to  various  subterfuges,  for  a  serious  punishment  would 
have  been  the  result  of  the  discovery.  The  people  who 
had  endured  misery  under  Robespierre,  because  Robes- 
pierre nattered  them,  now  openly  threatened  to  rebel. 
Every  day  the  bar  of  the  Convention  was  invaded  by 
the  Sections  of  Paris,  and  crowds  of  people  traversed  the 
streets  exclaiming,  «  Bread,  bread!  We,  at  least,  had  bread 
in  1793!  Down  with  the  Republic!* 

One  day  Bonaparte  came  to  dine  with  us,  and  after 
dinner  we  took  a  walk  out  in  the  direction  of  the  Tuileries. 
Bonaparte  offered  my  mother  his  arm,  and  I  walked  with 
my  brother.  After  we  had  crossed  the  Passage  Feydeau 
and  reached  the  Boulevard,  we  heard  horrid  vociferations 
against  the  Convention. 

« Madame  Permon,"  said  Napoleon,  "let  me  advise 
you  not  to  go  any  farther.  These  are  not  scenes  for  women 
to  witness.  Let  me  conduct  you  home,  and  I  will  come 


68  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

and  gather  what  news  I  can,  and  return  to  inform  you 
of  what  I  hear. " 

We  immediately  returned  home,  and  Bonaparte  and 
Albert  afterward  went  out.  Neither  of  them  returned 
that  night.  They  informed  us  that  they  had  found  it 
impossible  to  get  back,  and,  besides,  they  had  been  to 
the  Convention. 

"There  they  were,"  said  Bonaparte,  <(  roaring  for  the 
Constitution  of  1793:  they  were  like  so  many  madmen." 

<(And  you,  Napoleon,"  said  my  mother,  <(what  is  your 
opinion  of  it  ?  I  think  the  Constitution  of  1793  is  a 
good  one." 

Bonaparte  was  off  his  guard,  and  replied: 

<(  Why,  it  is  good  in  one  sense,  to  be  sure ;  but  all  that 
is  connected  with  carnage  is  bad." 

Perceiving  that  my  mother  smiled,  he  recollected  him- 
self, and  said:  "A/t,  Signer  a  Panoria  !  Signora  Panoria  ! 
quest'}  malissimo!  come!  mi  volete  prendere  per  sopresa  ?  "  * 
Then  he  added  with  a  smile :  (<  Oh  no !  the  Constitution 
of  '93;  I  do  not  like  it." 

That  same  day  Salicetti  came  to  see  us.  He  appeared 
out  of  humor,  was  abstracted,  and  frequently  did  not 
answer  to  the  point  when  he  was  spoken  to.  When  he 
was  in  this  sort  of  humor  and  conversing  with  Bonaparte, 
the  discussion  was  sure  to  take  an  angry  tone,  so  that 
my  mother  always  tried  to  turn  the  conversation  from 
politics. 

A  few  evenings  before  the  first  of  Prairial  f  my  mother 
had  a  small  party.  She  told  the  gentlemen  whom  she 
invited  that  she  would  have  no  politics  introduced. 

<(  Is  it  not  enough,"  said  she,  (<  to  be  roused  out  of 
one's  sleep  of  a  night  by  your  tocsins  and  your  drums, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  harmonious  choruses  of  your 
market  women?  Promise  me  that  you  will  not  speak  of 
politics."  The  promise  was  given;  but  the  difficulty  was 
to  keep  it.  What  was  to  be  talked  about?  All  subjects 
of  conversation  were  annihilated.  The  theaters  produced 
nothing,  and  literature  was  dead. 

Bonaparte  for  a  long  time  endeavored  to  maintain  the 
conversation;  but  what  could  he  do?  Even  M.  de  Nar- 

*  w  Ah,  Madame  Panoria !  that  is  very  mischievous  of  you.     How  ? 
You  wish  to  take  me  by  surprise,  do  you?* 
f  The  i8th  of  May,  1795. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  69 

bonne  or  M.  de  Talleyrand  must  have  failed.  At  length 
it  was  proposed  to  tell  stories:  Bonaparte  liked  this  way 
of  passing  an  evening,  and  he  began  to  relate  a  number 
of  anecdotes  which  were  interesting  in  themselves,  but 
which  were  rendered  doubly  so  by  his  original  manner 
of  telling  them.  He  spoke  French  very  badly,  frequently 
committing  the  greatest  mistakes,  and  his  ignorance  on 
certain  points  of  ordinary  education  was  remarkable.  Yet 
in  spite  of  those  disadvantages  everyone  listened  to  him 
with  delight. 

However,  after  a  time  the  conversation  flagged,  and  an 
inclination  to  touch  upon  the  forbidden  subject  soon 
predominated.  I  recollect  that  at  that  moment  Salicetti, 
who  was  in  none  of  the  best  of  humors,  was  walking 
about  the  drawing-room,  while  the  creaking  of  his  boots 
made  that  monotonous  and  irritating  noise  which  always 
annoyed  my  mother,  but  which  was  now  quite  intolerable 
to  her,  for  she  was  vexed  by  the  dullness  of  the  com- 
pany. 

"Salicetti,"  said  she,  (<can  you  not  be  at  ease  yourself 
and  permit  others  to  be  so  ?  >J 

Salicetti,  whose  thoughts  were  at  that  moment  wan- 
dering in  a  world  far  removed  from  my  mother's  tea-table 
circle,  gravely  turned  round,  and,  bowing  with  an  air  of 
constrained  politeness,  said : 

<(  No  more,  I  thank  you,  I  have  taken  two  cups,  and  I 
already  feel  the  effect  on  my  nerves. w  He  then  resumed 
his  pacing  backward  and  forward,  while  his  odious  boots 
creaked  more  loudly  than  ever. 

Patience  was  never  my  mother's  prevailing  virtue.  She 
hastily  rose  from  her  seat,  and  advanced  toward  Salicetti 
with  that  light  step  which  was  so  peculiarly  her  own. 
Seizing  his  stout  arm  with  her  little  hand,  she  turned 
him  completely  round,  and  he  stood  not  a  little  astonished 
at  his  own  pirouette. 

« Salicetti, }>  said  she,  (<  I  like  to  be  heard  when  I 
speak,  and  when  I  make  a  request  I  wish  it  to  be 
complied  with.  This  is  somewhat  despotic,  perhaps,  but 
I  cannot  help  it.  I  am  too  old  to  accommodate  myself 
to  your  new-fashioned  customs,  and  what  is  more,  I  will 
not.  We  women  are  all  queens  without  kingdoms.  We  are 
dethroned;  I  feel  this  to  my  cost;  but  still,  I  trust,  I  retain 
a  little  power  in  my  own  house.  Here,  at  least,  I  am  a 


70  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

sovereign,  and  my  subjects  must  obey  me.     Do  you  mean 
to  rebel  against  my  authority  ? w 

"No,®  exclaimed  Salicetti,  delighted  at  the  graceful 
manner  in  which  my  mother  had  rebuked  him,  and  seiz- 
ing her  two  little  hands,  which  he  kissed  alternately, 
said,  (<  I  rebel  against  your  authority !  Certainly  not. 
What  have  I  done  that  could  lead  you  to  suppose  so  ? J> 
His  answer  was  repeated  to  him,  and  it  turned  out  as 
the  company  had  already  guessed,  that  he  thought  my 
mother  was  offering  him  another  cup  of  tea. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

New  Troubles  in  Paris  —  Bonaparte's  Poverty  —  His  Servant  and  My 
Mother's  Femme  de  Chambre  —  The  Jardin  des  Plantes  —  Mutual 
Confidence  —  Junot  in  Love  with  Paulette  Bonaparte  —  Napoleon's 
Characteristic  Reply — Revolutionary  Scenes. 

MY  MOTHER  proposed  to  make  a  visit  to  Gascony  to 
settle  some  business,  and  afterward  to  return  to 
Paris  with  my  father,  the  state  of  whose  health 
made  her  uneasy.  She  wished  to  bring  him  within  reach 
of  the  best  medical  assistance;  but  how  was  she  to  re- 
turn to  Paris  at  a  moment  when  the  Revolution,  suffer- 
ing from  the  crimes  committed  in  its  name,  could  offer 
no  guarantee  or  security  to  anyone? 

The  Convention,  which  at  that  time  included  many  pure 
and  honest  Republicans,  beheld  its  power  braved  and  dis- 
avowed; everything  seemed  to  be  returning  to  that  un- 
happy state,  the  bare  remembrance  of  which  excited  horror. 
In  spite  of  this,  balls  were  resumed,  and  the  theaters  were 
filled  every  evening.  It  may  truly  be  said  of  the  French 
that  they  meet  death  singing  and  dancing.  Balls,  theaters, 
and  concerts  were  nightly  crowded,  while  famine  was  star- 
ing us  in  the  face,  and  we  were  threatened  with  all  the 
horrors  of  anarchy. 

Bonaparte  came  daily  to  visit  my  mother,  and  he  fre- 
quently entered  into  warm  political  discussions  with  per- 
sons whom  he  met  at  her  residence.  These  discussions 
almost  always  led  to  violent  language,  which  displeased  my 


DUCHESS    OF   ABR ANTES  71 

mother.  But  Bonaparte  was  unfortunate ;  she  knew  it,  and 
that  consideration  rendered  her  indulgent  to  him. 

My  mother  told  me  one  day  that  she  had  learned  some 
particulars  respecting  General  Bonaparte  which  much  dis- 
tressed her,  the  more  especially  as  she  could  do  nothing 
to  assist  him.  These  particulars  had  been  communicated 
to  her  by  Mariette,  her  femme  de  chambre. 

Mariette  was  a  very  pretty  and  good  girl;  Bonaparte's 
servant  admired  her  and  wished  to  marry  her.  She,  how- 
ever, did  not  like  him;  and  as  he  was,  moreover,  poor, 
she  declined  his  offer.  I  give  these  details  because  they 
are  connected  with  an  affair  which  I  shall  presently  have 
to  allude  to.  Bonaparte's  servant  informed  Mariette  that 
the  General  was  often  in  want  of  money. 

"But,®  added  he,  (<he  has  an  aid-de-camp  who  shares 
with  him  all  he  gets.  When  he  is  lucky  at  play,  the 
largest  share  of  his  winnings  is  always  for  his  General. 
The  aid-de-camp's  family  sometimes  sends  him  money, 
and  then  almost  all  is  given  to  the  General.  The  Gen- 
eral,* added  the  man,  "loves  this  aid-de-camp  as  dearly 
as  if  he  were  his  own  brother.*  This  aid-de-camp  was 
no  other  than  Junot,  who  was  destined  at  a  later  period 
to  be  my  husband! 

On  Bonaparte's  return  to  Paris,  after  the  misfortunes 
of  which  he  accused  Salicetti  of  being  the  cause,  he  was 
in  very  destitute  circumstances.  His  family,  who  were 
banished  from  Corsica,  found  an  asylum  at  Marseilles; 
and  they  could  not  now  do  for  him  what  they  would 
have  done  had  they  been  in  the  country  whence  they 
derived  their  pecuniary  resources.  From  time  to  time 
he  received  remittances  of  money,  and  I  suspect  they 
came  from  his  excellent  brother  Joseph,  who  had  then 
recently  married  Mademoiselle  Clary;  but  with  all  his 
economy,  these  supplies  were  insufficient.  Bonaparte  was 
therefore  in  absolute  distress. 

Junot  often  used  to  speak  of  the  six  months  they  passed 
together  in  Paris  at  this  time.  When  they  took  an  even- 
ing stroll  on  the  Boulevard,  which  used  to  be  the  resort 
of  young  men,  mounted  on  fine  horses,  and  displaying 
all  the  luxury  which  they  were  permitted  to  show  at 
that  time,  Bonaparte  would  declaim  against  fate,  and 
express  his  contempt  for  the  dandies  with  their  whiskers 
and  their  oreilles  de  chien,  who,  as  they  rode  past,  were 


72  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

eulogizing  in  ecstasy  the  manner  in  which  Madame  Scio 
sang  paole  pafumfa,  paole  panachde.* 

<(And  it  is  on  such  beings  as  these, "  he  would  say, 
"  that  Fortune  confers  her  favors.  Heavens !  how  con- 
temptible is  human  nature !  J) 

Junot,  whose  friendship  for  Bonaparte  was  of  that  ar- 
dent kind  which  is  formed  only  in  youth,  shared  with 
him  all  that  he  received  from  his  family,  who,  though 
not  rich,  were  in  easy  circumstances.  He  used  some- 
times to  resort  to  the  gaming  table,  but  before  he  did 
so  he  invariably  deposited  in  the  hands  of  Bonaparte 
three-quarters  of  the  allowance  he  had  received  from 
Burgundy:  the  other  quarter  was  allotted  to  the  chances 
of  vingt-et-un.  Junot  was  often  successful  at  play:  on 
those  occasions  the  two  friends  used  to  make  merry,  and 
pay  off  their  most  pressing  debts. 

One  morning  Bonaparte  and  Junot  were  walking 
together  in  the  Jardin  des  Plantes.  f  Bonaparte  was 
always  fond  of  these  solitary  promenades:  they  rendered 
him  communicative  and  confiding,  and  he  seemed  to 
feel  himself  nearer  to  the  presence  of  the  Deity,  of 
whom  he  used  to  say  a  FAITHFUL  FRIEND  is  THE  TRUE 
IMAGE.  \ 

About  this  time  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  had  been 
greatly  improved  by  the  exertions  of  a  man  whom  France 
ought  to  remember  with  gratitude.  The  Jardin  des 
Plantes,  which  had  originally  been  confined  exclusively 
to  the  cultivation  of  medical  plants,  became,  under  the 
superintendence  of  M.  Tournefort,  a  nursery  for  all 
branches  of  botany. 

<(  There, w  Junot  used  to  say,  <(  we  not  only  inhaled  pure 
air,  but  it  seemed,  as  soon  as  we  passed  the  gate,  that 
we  left  a  heavy  burden  behind  us.  All  around  us  pre- 
sented the  aspect  of  peace  and  kindliness.  The  evening 
was  generally  the  time  for  our  visits  to  M.  D'Aubenton. 


*  This  affected  mode  of  dropping  the  r  was  common  among  the 
dandies  of  that  time,  or,  as  they  used  to  be  called,  the  tncroyables. 

f  Junot's  uncle,  the  Bishop  of  Metz,  a  distinguished  naturalist,  was 
the  intimate  friend  of  D'Aubenton  and  Buffon.  Junot,  therefore,  was 
always  kindly  received  by  the  former,  and  often  visited  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes  accompanied  by  the  General. 

\  I  give  this  phrase  literally;  I  have  often  heard  it  repeated  by  Bona- 
parte. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  73 

We  used  to  find  him  like  a  patriarch  surrounded  by 
his  laborers,  whose  planting  and  digging  he  was 
superintending.  He  was  actively  assisted  by  the  broth- 
ers Thouin,  whose  zeal  for  the  science  of  botany  induced 
them  to  work  in  the  plantations  like  common  garden- 
ers. * 

The  elder  of  these  two  brothers  was  a  man  of  rare 
acquirements;  and  Bonaparte  used  to  be  fond  of  walk- 
ing with  him  round  the  extensive  hothouses,  which 
were  already  beginning  to  be  filled  with  rare  plants, 
and  which  subsequently,  under  his  auspices,  became  the 
finest  temple  ever  raised  to  Nature  in  the  midst  of  a 
city. 

On  one  of  Bonaparte's  visits  to  the  Jardin  des  Plantes, 
after  he  had  lingered  longer  than  usual  in  conversation 
with  the  brothers  Thouin,  he  strolled  with  Junot  into 
some  of  the  shady  avenues  of  the  garden.  It  was  a 
delicious  evening,  and  a  thousand  rose  trees  in  full  bloom 
scattered  perfume  through  the  air. 

The  two  friends  walked  together  arm-in-arm,  and  in 
confidential  conversation:  they  were  then  in  closer  com- 
munion with  each  other  than  they  ever  were  afterward 
in  a  gilded  cabinet.  A  lovely  night  has  always  a  pow- 
erful influence  on  minds  susceptible  of  ardent  feeling. 
Bonaparte  was  afterward  governed  by  an  overpowering 
passion,  which  subjugated  every  other  within  him,  and 
reigned  paramount:  I  need  not  name  it.  But  at  this 
period  he  was  very  young,  and  his  heart  beat  warmly, 
for  he  loved. 

He  made  Junot  his  confidant,  and  spoke  on  the  sub- 
ject with  much  acerbity,  for  his  love  was  not  returned. 
Junot  has  often  told  me  that  if  Bonaparte  had  not  him- 
self torn  asunder  the  fetters  which  then  bound  him,  the 
consequences  of  his  passion  might  have  been  terrible. 
On  this  occasion  his  voice  trembled  while  he  expressed 
his  feelings,  and  Junot  was  deeply  affected  by  his  emo- 
tion. But  it  was  even  then  plain  that  there  was  within 
him  an  extraordinary  force  which  struggled  against  his 
weakness.  He  broke  off  the  conversation  himself,  and 
appeared  to  have  forgotten  the  cause  of  his  agitation. 

Confidence  creates  confidence.  Junot  had  also  a  heart 
full  of  feelings  which  required  to  be  disclosed  to  a  friend, 
and  the  ear  of  Bonaparte  had  often  heard  his  story. 


74  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Junot  loved  to  infatuation  Paulette  Bonaparte.  His 
youthful  warmth  of  feeling  could  not  withstand  so  charm- 
ing a  creature  as  Paulette  then  was.  His  passion  was  a 
delirium ;  but  his  secret  was  not  a  week  old  when  it  was 
made  known  to  his  General.  Honor  commanded  the 
disclosure,  since  his  reason  had  not  enabled  him  to  re- 
sist his  passion. 

Bonaparte  received  his  declaration  neither  with  assent 
nor  dissent.  He  consoled  him,  however.  But  what  gave 
Junot  more  satisfaction  than  all  the  words  of  his  friend, 
was  a  belief,  amounting  almost  to  certainty,  that  Paulette 
would  say  (<  Yes  w  with  pleasure,  as  soon  as  he  should  be 
able  to  offer  her  an  establishment  —  not  a  rich  one,  as 
Bonaparte  used  to  remark,  but  sufficient  to  be  a  security 
against  the  distressing  prospect  of  bringing  into  the  world 
children  destined  to  be  miserable. 

On  the  very  day  of  which  I  have  been  speaking,  Junot 
emboldened  by  what  Bonaparte  had  told  him  in  dis- 
burdening his  own  heart,  was  more  than  ever  urgent  on 
the  subject  of  Paulette.  He  had  received  a  letter  from 
his  father  which  he  showed  to  Bonaparte.  In  this  letter 
M.  Junot  informed  his  son  that  he  had  nothing  to  give 
at  the  moment,  but  that  his  share  of  the  family  property 
would  one  day  be  20,000  francs. 

(<  I  shall  then  he  rich,  *  said  Junot,  <(  since  with  my  pay 
I  shall  have  an  income  of  1,200  livres.  My  dear  General, 
I  beseech  you,  write  to  Madame  Bonaparte,  and  tell  her 
that  you  have  seen  my  father's  letter.  Would  you  wish 
him  to  write  to  Marseilles  himself  ?  w 

On  leaving  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  they  crossed  the 
river  in  a  boat,  and  passed  through  the  streets  to  the 
Boulevard.  Having  arrived  in  front  of  the  Chinese  Baths, 
they  walked  about  in  the  opposite  alley.  While  ascend- 
ing and  descending  this  part  of  the  Boulevard,  Bonaparte 
listened  attentively  to  Junot;  but  he  was  no  longer  the 
same  man  as  when  under  the  odoriferous  shades  they 
had  just  quitted.  It  seemed  that  on  returning  to  the 
bustle  of  life,  the  tumult  of  society,  he  resumed  all  the 
fetters  and  obligations  imposed  by  the  State.  His  man- 
ner was,  however,  always  kind.  He  only  pretended  to 
give  advice. 

<(  I  cannot  write  to  my  mother  to  make  this  proposal," 
he  said,  <(  for  you  are  to  have  at  last,  it  seems,  1,200 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  75 

livres  of  income  —  and  that  is  very  well;  but  you  have 
not  got  them  yet.  Your  father  wears  well,  my  good  fel- 
low, and  will  make  you  wait  a  long  time  for  your  livres. 
The  truth  is,  you  have  nothing  but  your  lieutenant's  pay ; 
as  to  Paulette,  she  has  not  so  much.  So,  then,  to  sum 
up:  you  have  nothing,  she  has  nothing  —  what  is  the 
total  ?  Nothing.  You  cannot,  then,  marry  at  present. 
You  must  wait.  We  shall  perhaps  see  better  days,  my 
friend  —  yes!  We  shall  have  them,  even  should  I  go  to 
seek  them  in  another  quarter  of  the  world.  *  * 

At  this  period  insurrections  were  things  of  daily  occur- 
rence. That  of  the  i2th  of  Germinal,  which  was  almost 
entirely  the  work  of  women,  had  a  peculiar  character. 
In  the  evening  and  in  the  course  of  the  following  day 
we  saw  several  deputies  who  described  the  events.  Some 
were  quite  cast  down,  and  constantly  exclaimed,  <(  France 
is  ruined !  w 

The  account  they  gave  of  what  had  passed  was  doubt- 
less alarming.  Women  had  forced  their  way  into  the 
hall  in  which  the  representatives  of  the  nation  were  as- 
sembled, and  had  driven  them  out.  <(  It  was  from  mere 
fatigue, w  said  my  brother,  <(  that  the  mob  retired. " 

(<  And  what  did  the  Mountain  do  during  the  disturb- 
ance ? w  asked  my  mother.  <(  It  supported  the  demands 
of  the  mob.  All  that  I  can  further  say  is,  that  I  was 
told  that  the  noise  made  by  the  female  insurgents  was  so 
great  that  nobody  could  understand  what  was  going  on. 
After  their  departure  the  deputies  ventured  to  resume 
their  seats  and  to  proceed  to  business. w 

Amid  our  conversation  Salicetti  was  gloomy  and 
silent.  He  made  me,  as  usual,  sit  down  beside  him, 
and  spoke  of  my  sister's  marriage,  or  anything  else, 
without  paying  attention  to  what  I  said.  However,  he 
thus  kept  himself  in  countenance,  and  avoided  a  conver- 
sation the  subject  of  which  was  to  him  too  important  to 
allow  of  his  treating  it  with  indifference. 

At  the   epoch    of   the   first   of  Prairial  there  were  ele- 

*I  have  described  this  conversation  fully  as  Junot  related  it,  be- 
cause I  think  the  conduct  of  Bonaparte  during  the  evening  in  which 
it  occurred  was  very  remarkable.  Junot  recollected  all  that  passed 
minutely,  and  could  point  out  the  part  of  the  Boulevard  on  which 
they  were  when  Bonaparte  spoke  those  words  which  later  events  have 
rendered  so  worthy  of  notice. 


76  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

ments  in  the  Convention  capable  of  producing  the  most 
terrible  effects.  The  terrorist  party  sought  to  save  such 
of  its  members  as  were  compromised  not  only  in  public 
opinion,  but  by  the  fact  of  being  subject  to  a  regular 
charge  of  impeachment.  The  contest  was  terrible,  for  it 
was  for  life  or  death.  Billaud-Varennes,  Collot-d'Herbois, 
and  Barrere,  were  the  men  chiefly  dreaded. 

From  Carnot,  Robert  Lindet,  and  others,  no  evil  was 
to  be  apprehended,  because,  though  they  might  perhaps 
be  misled  by  adopting  an  erroneous  opinion,  the  public 
could  rely  on  their  honesty.  But,  good  heaven!  what  a 
reaction  would  there  have  been  had  the  Thermidor  party 
been  overthrown !  That,  however,  was  the  point  at  issue. 
The  terrorists  stirred  up  the  people,  who,  in  a  season  of 
scarcity,  were  easily  led  astray;  and,  consequently,  we 
had  mobs  daily  assembled  by  the  cry,  <(  Vive  la  Consti- 
tution de  'pj/  w 

Fortunately  the  seditions  were  suppressed.  During  the 
trials  of  the  terrorists,  Carnot  was  the  only  one  who 
displayed  a  noble  character;  all  the  others  were  miser- 
able creatures;  and  the  whole  Convention  was  almost  as 
contemptible.  Had  not  Andre"  Dumont  moved  and  urged 
with  energy  the  banishment  of  Barrere,  Billaud-Varen- 
nes, and  Collot-d'Herbois,  it  is  not  improbable  that  the 
whole  Convention  would  have  been  outlawed. 

The  sentence  of  exile  was  voted  by  acclamation,  and 
six  deputies  were  condemned  to  imprisonment  in  the 
castle  of  Ham.*  But  such  was  the  infatuation  of  the 
Convention,  that  if  two  steps  were  made  forward  toward 
a  public  good,  they  were  sure  to  be  followed  by  four 
backward.  The  deputies  ordered  to  be  arrested  walked 
about  Paris,  and  if  they  had  chosen  they  might  have 
gone  to  the  theater  on  the  night  of  the  i3th,  for  though 
condemned  they  were  still  at  liberty:  these  were  indeed 
the  days  of  anarchy! 

It  was  necessary  to  act  decisively;  but  at  a  moment 
when  every  journeyman  perruquier  took  the  name  of 
Brutus,  or  Mutius  Scsevola,  there  was  not  in  the  whole 
Convention,  notwithstanding  the  great  talents  which 
formerly  shone  in  it,  a  man  whom  anyone  would  have 
been  simple  enough  to  call  a  Cicero. 

*  Leonard  Bourdon,  Hugues,  Chales,  Faussedoise,  Duhem,  and 
Choudien. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  77 

However,  Thibaudeau  at  last  arose.  In  an  energetic 
speech  he  reminded  the  Convention  of  its  duty  to  watch 
over  the  public  safety.  The  outlawry  of  the  deputies 
was  decreed.  General  Pichegru  received  the  necessary 
orders  of  the  Convention,  which  were  speedily  executed. 
Paris  remained  tranquil,  and  three  deputies  were  sent  to 
Rochefort.* 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  2oth  of  May  —  Death  of  Ferraud  —  Project  of  Bombarding  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Antoine  —  Salicetti  on  the  List  of  the  Proscribed 
—  He  Flies  for  Refuge  to  My  Mother's  Lodgings  —  His  Conceal- 
ment—  Bonaparte's  Visit  to  My  Mother — Remarkable  Conversation. 

THE  Convention  was  no  longer  popular,  because  it 
manifested  no  readiness  to  alleviate  the  sufferings 
of  the  people,  now  rendered  intolerable.  Aversion 
had  succeeded  to  the  attachment  which  the  public  once 
fondly  cherished  for  the  Convention,  and  this  was  especially 
the  case  in  Paris.  Meanwhile,  the  enemies  of  order  took 
advantage  of  these  elements  of  mischief  and  did  all  in 
their  power  to  fan  the  flame. 

On  the  morning  of  the  aoth  of  May  we  were  awakened 
by  loud  shouts  in  the  streets ;  the  tocsin  sounded  to  arms, 
and  another  day  of  blood  was  added  to  the  calendar 
which  took  its  date  from  1789!  Enough  has  already  been 
said  of  that  dreadful  day.  I  recollect  that  terror  reigned 
everywhere.  The  conspirators  had  promised  a  day  of 
pillage  to  the  three  faubourgs,  and  particularly  to  that 
of  Saint  Antoine.  The  whole  population  of  this  last  dis- 
trict was  in  arms;  they  were  in  the  extreme  of  misery. 
There  was  greater  reason  to  dread  the  issue  of  this  day 
than  that  of  the  i4th  of  July,  the  6th  of  October,  or  the 
loth  of  August. 

It  was   not  a  castle  or  a  court  to  which   the  animosity 

*Barrere  went  there  with  the  others,  but,  as  usual,  he  took  care  not  to 
make  one  in  a  disagreeable  party.  He  contrived  to  stop  at  Rochefort 
and  did  not  embark.  The  French,  who  laugh  at  everything,  said  this 
was  the  first  time  that  Barrere  did  not  follow  the  stream.  A  man  of 
wit  has  said  of  him  that  he  is  one  of  those  characters  who  are  neither 
esteemed  nor  hated. 


78  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

of  the  people  was  directed,  but  everything  elevated  above 
the  very  lowest  grade  of  society  was  marked  out  in  the 
list  of  proscription.  This  it  was  that  saved  France  as  well 
as  the  Convention.  All  those  who  had  anything  to  lose 
united  themselves  into  corps,  which  were  very  superior 
to  unorganized  masses  acting  without  any  plan,  and  ap- 
parently without  leaders. 

While  the  most  frightful  scenes  were  passing  in  the 
Convention,  the  respectable  inhabitants  of  Paris  shut 
themselves  up  in  their  houses,  concealed  their  valuables, 
and  awaited  with  fearful  anxiety  the  result. 

Toward  evening,  my  brother,  whom  we  had  not  seen 
during  the  whole  day,  came  home  to  get  something  to 
eat;  he  was  almost  famished,  not  having  tasted  food 
since  the  morning.  Disorder  still  raged,  and  we  heard 
the  most  frightful  noise  in  the  streets,  mingled  with  the 
beating  of  drums.  The  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine,  which 
had  been  regularly  armed  in  pursuance  of  the  proposition 
of  Tallien,  excited  the  most  serious  alarm. 

My  brother  had  scarcely  finished  his  hasty  repast,  when 
General  Bonaparte  arrived  to  make  a  similar  demand 
upon  our  hospitality.  He  also  told  us  he  had  tasted 
nothing  since  the  morning,  for  all  the  restaurants  were 
closed.  He  contented  himself  with  that  which  my  brother 
had  left,  and,  while  eating,  he  told  us  the  news  of  the 
day.  It  was  most  appalling!  My  brother  had  informed 
us  of  but  part.  He  did  not  know  of  the  assassination  of 
the  unfortunate  Ferraud,  whose  body  had  been  cut  almost 
piecemeal. 

(<  They  took  his  head, w  said  Bonaparte,  <(  and  presented 
it  to  poor  Boissy-d'Anglas,*  and  the  shock  of  this  fiend- 
like  act  was  almost  death  to  the  President  in  his  chair. 
Truly, w  added  he,  <(  if  we  continue  thus  to  sully  our  Revo- 
lution, it  will  be  a  disgrace  to  be  a  Frenchman.  * 

Perhaps  the  most  alarming  circumstance  was  the  pro- 
ject entertained  by  Barras  of  bombarding  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Antoine.  (<  He  is  at  this  moment,8  said  Bona- 
parte, <(  at  the  end  of  the  Boulevard,  and  proposes,  so  he 
tells  me,  to  throw  bombs  into  the  faubourg:  I  have 
counseled  him  by  no  means  to  do  so.  The  population 
of  the  faubourg  would  issue  forth  and  disperse  throiigh 

*  The  admirable  conduct  of  Boissy-d'Anglas  on  that  day  will  always 
be  mentioned  in  history. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  79 

Paris,  committing  every  excess.  It  is  altogether  very  sad 
work.  Have  you  seen  Salicetti  during  the  last  few 
days  ? }>  he  inquired,  after  a  moment's  silence ;  (<  they  say 
he  is  implicated  in  the  affair  of  Soubrani  and  Bour- 
botte.  It  is  likewise  suspected  that  Romme  is  compro- 
mised in  that  business.  I  shall  be  very  sorry  for  it. 
Romme  is  a  worthy  man,  and  I  believe  a  stanch  and 
honest  Republican.  As  to  Salicetti !  * 

Here  Bonaparte  paused,  struck  his  forehead  with  his 
hand,  contracted  his  eyebrows,  and  his  whole  frame  seemed 
agitated.  In  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion,  he  continued, 
(<  Salicetti  has  injured  me  greatly.  He  has  thrown  a  cloud 
over  the  bright  dawn  of  my  youth — he  has  blighted  my 
hopes  of  glory !  I  say  again  he  has  done  me  much  wrong. 
However,  I  bear  him  no  ill  will." 

My  brother  was  about  to  defend  Salicetti. 

<(  Cease,  Permon,  cease !  "  exclaimed  Bonaparte;  (<that 
man,  I  tell  you,  has  been  my  evil  genius.  Dumerbion  really 
loved  me,  and  would  have  employed  me  suitably ;  but  that 
report  spread  at  my  return  from  Genoa,  and  to  which 
malice  lent  its  venom  to  make  it  the  foundation  of  an 
accusation  —  that  report  ought,  in  reality,  to  have  been  a 
source  of  honor  to  me!  No!  I  may  forgive,  but  to  forget 
is  another  matter.  Yet,  as  I  said  before,  I  bear  him  no 
ill  will. w  While  speaking  thus,  Bonaparte  appeared  ab- 
stracted. About  midnight  he  departed  with  my  brother. 

The  next  day  we  learned  that  the  Convention  had  or- 
dered the  arrest  of  several  of  its  members,  among  whom 
were  Soubrani,  Romme,  Bourbotte,  etc. ;  Salicetti's  name 
was  not  mentioned. 

<(  Here  are  more  proscriptions, w  said  my  mother.  "My 
dear,"  said  she  to  Albert,  (<  we  are  no  doubt  under  great 
obligations  to  Salicetti  for  what  he  has  done  for  your 
father  and  you ;  but  gratitude  cannot  make  me  indifferent 
to  the  impropriety  of  receiving  a  man  who  is  accused  of 
wishing  to  bring  back  the  days  of  1793.  Salicetti  is  not 
on  the  lists  of  the  proscribed,  therefore  I  can,  with  a  clear 
conscience,  give  him  to  understand  that  his  visits  are  not 
agreeable.  His  opinions  are  becoming  every  day  less  and 
less  in  unison  with  mine." 

This  was  on  the  2ist  of  May:  my  mother  expected  a 
party  of  friends  to  dinner.  She  was  to  leave  Paris  in  a 
few  days  for  Bordeaux,  and  in  four  months  was  to  return 


8o  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

with  my  father  to  Paris.  Bonaparte  was  one  of  the  com- 
pany invited  to  dine  with  us  that  day.  It  was  six  o'clock. 
One  of  the  guests  had  arrived,  and  my  mother  was  sitting 
in  the  drawing-room  conversing  with  him,  when  Mariette 
came  and  whispered  to  her  that  there  was  somebody  in 
her  chamber,  who  wished  to  speak  with  her  alone.  The 
girl  added,  <(  I  know  who  it  is,  madam  —  you  may  come. w 

My  mother  immediately  rose  and  went  to  her  chamber, 
and  beheld  near  the  window  a  man,  half  concealed  by  the 
curtain.  He  made  a  sign  to  her  with  his  hand.  My 
mother  called  me,  and,  desiring  me  to  shut  the  door, 
advanced  toward  this  man,  whom,  to  her  astonishment, 
she  discovered  to  be  Salicetti.  He  was  as  pale  as  death ; 
his  lips  were  as  white  as  his  teeth,  and  his  dark  eyes 
appeared  to  flash  fire!  He  was  truly  frightful. 

(<  I  am  proscribed, w  he  said  to  my  mother,  in  an  under- 
tone and  in  breathless  haste ;  <(  that  is  to  say,  I  am  con- 
demned to  death.  But  for  Gauthier,  whom  I  just  now  met 
on  the  Boulevard,  I  was  going  to  that  den  of  brigands, 
and  should  have  been  lost.  Madame  Permon, w  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  pause,  during  which  his  eyes  were  stead- 
fastly fixed  on  my  mother ;  <(  Madame  Permon,  I  hope  I 
have  not  been  deceived  in  relying  on  your  generosity. 
You  will  save  me.  To  prevail  on  you  to  do  so  I  need 
not,  I  am  sure,  remind  you  that  I  saved  your  son  and 
husband. w 

My  mother  took  Salicetti  by  the  hand  and  conducted 
him  into  the  next  room,  which  was  my  bedchamber. 
Several  persons  had  now  assembled  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  she  thought  she  heard  the  voice  of  Bonaparte.  She 
was  ready  to  faint  with  terror.  In  my  chamber  she  knew 
she  could  not  be  overheard. 

(<  Salicetti, M  she  said,  <(  I  will  not  waste  time  in  words. 
All  that  I  can  grant  you  may  command;  but  there  is  one 
thing  more  dear  to  me  than  life,  that  is,  the  safety  of  my 
children.  By  concealing  you  for  a  few  hours,  and  this 
house  cannot  afford  you  any  longer  security,  I  shall  not 
save  you,  and  I  only  bring  my  own  head  to  the  scaffold, 
and  probably  endanger  the  lives  of  my  children.  I  owe 
you  gratitude,  but  I  leave  you  to  yourself  to  determine 
whether  I  ought  to  carry  it  thus  far. w  I  never  saw  my 
mother  look  so  beautiful  as  when  at  this  moment  she 
fixed  her  eyes  earnestly  on  me. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  81 

(<  I  am  not  so  selfish, w  replied  Salicetti,  (<  as  to  ask  for 
anything-  which  may  expose  you  to  such  danger.  My  plan 
is  this,  and  on  it  rests  my  only  hope.  This  house  being  an 
hotel,  will  be  the  last  to  be  suspected.  The  woman  who 
keeps  it  has,  I  presume,  no  objection  to  get  money;  I  will 
give  her  plenty :  let  me  remain  concealed  here  only  eight 
days.  At  the  expiration  of  that  time  you  are  to  set  out 
for  Gascony;  you  can  take  me  with  you,  and  thus  save 
my  life.  If  you  refuse  me  an  asylum,  even  for  a  few 
hours,  I  shall  be  dragged  to  the  scaffold,  there  to  forfeit 
my  life,  while  I  saved  that  of  your  husband  and  your 
son. * 

(<  Salicetti,*  said  my  mother,  (<this  is  unkind  and  un- 
generous; you  know  my  obligation  to  you,  and  you  take 
advantage  of  it.  I  ask  you  again  what  I  can  do  for  you, 
situated  as  I  am  in  this  public  hotel,  a  house  which  is 
filled  with  strangers,  and  which  is  the  daily  resort  of 
your  enemies ;  for  you  know  that  Bonaparte  is  your  enemy. 
Besides,  the  mistress  of  this  house  is  hostile  to  your 
opinions,  and  I  doubt  whether  any  reward  could  induce 
her  to  hazard  her  life  to  serve  you.  In  short,  we  are 
surrounded  by  difficulties.* 

At  this  moment  the  chamber  door  opened,  and  my 
mother  ran  toward  the  person  who  was  about  to  enter. 
It  was  Albert;  he  came  to  inquire  why  dinner  was  de- 
layed. <(  All  the  company  have  arrived,  *  he  said,  (<  except 
Bonaparte,  and  he  has  sent  an  apology." 

My  mother  clasped  her  hands,  and  raised  them  to 
heaven:  she  desired  him  to  go  downstairs,  and  she  fol- 
lowed him.  <(  I  was  just  reading  a  letter  which  I  have 
received  from  your  sister.  She  has  sent  me  a  dindc  aux 
truffes,  and  if  our  friends  will  wait  so  long  for  dinner, 
we  will  have  it  cooked  for  to-day;  if  not,  it  will  be  a 
reason  for  another  little  party.* 

My  mother  uttered  these  words  as  she  entered  the 
drawing-room,  holding  in  her  hand  a  letter  which  she  had 
snatched  up  in  passing  through  her  own  chamber. 

Her  reason  for  inventing  this  long  story  was  that  the 
gentleman  whom  she  left  in  the  drawing-room,  when 
Mariette  called  her  out,  was  a  most  notorious  gossip,  and 
she  took  it  for  granted  that  he  had  already  told  all  the 
company  that  there  was  something  very  mysterious  in 
her  disappearance.  But  her  manner  was  so  natural  that 
6 


82  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

no  one  had  the  least  doubt  of  the  arrival  of  the  dinde 
aux  truffes,  which  it  was  unanimously  agreed  should  be 
cooked  next  day.  My  mother  then  begged  leave  to  re- 
tire for  a  few  moments  to  finish  her  letter. 

She  hastened  to  her  chamber,  slipped  the  bolt  of  her 
door,  and  rejoined  Salicetti,  whom  she  found  seated  in  a 
chair  with  his  head  leaning  on  both  his  hands.  <c  We 
may  esteem  ourselves  happy, w  said  she,  (<that  Bonaparte 
is  not  here  to  scrutinize  our  words  and  looks.  Now  let 
us  settle  what  is  to  be  done." 

<(  If  you  are  willing, )}  said  Salicetti,  *  the  thing  is  easy : 
will  you  consent  to  save  me?  w 

My  mother  did  not  give  an  immediate  reply.  Her  fre- 
quent change  of  color  betrayed  the  violent  agitation  of 
her  feelings.  At  length  she  became  so  pale  that  I  thought 
she  would  have  fainted  away.  Salicetti,  who  interpreted 
her  silence  as  a  refusal,  took  up  his  hat,  muttered  some 
words  which  I  did  not  distinctly  hear,  and  was  about 
to  leave  the  room  when  my  mother  caught  him  by 
the  arm. 

<(  Stay, w  she  said ;  <(  this  roof  is  yours.  My  son  must 
discharge  his  debt,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  discharge  my 
husband's.  * 

"Enough,  enough, w  said  Salicetti,  *all  will  be  well. 
Now  go  and  join  your  guests.  Mariette  will  take  care  of 
me.  I  have  said  but  two  words  to  her,  yet  those  two 
magic  words  have  power  to  make  her  lay  down  her  life 
to  serve  me.  My  dear  girl,"  said  he  to  me,  drawing  me 
back  as  I  was  about  to  follow  my  mother,  (<  I  have  spoken 
before  you  because  I  know  you  cannot  remain  in  ignorance 
of  this  affair.  I  need  not  warn  you  of  the  consequences 
of  indiscretion. w 

w  Ah !  fear  nothing, ft  I  exclaimed,  throwing  myself  into 
my  mother's  arms,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me  with 
an  expression  of  despair.  My  dear  mother  thought  only 
of  her  children  at  that  moment  when  her  own  head  was 
at  stake. 

She  stayed  a  minute  longer  in  her  chamber  to  recover 
herself.  Her  ardent  feelings  rendered  her  agitation  ex- 
treme; but  she  was  gifted  with  wonderful  self-control, 
and  when  she  entered  the  drawing-room  nobody  would 
have  suspected  that  she  had  to  conceal  an  important 
secret  from  those  who  surrounded  her. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  83 

The  dinner  was  very  gay.  The  company  was  animated 
by  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  at  the  result  of  the  events  of 
the  two  preceding  days.  Brunetiere  was  of  the  party, 
and,  though  never  deficient  in  cheerfulness,  his  spirits 
seemed  that  day  to  be  doubled.  As  soon  as  the  company 
had  departed,  my  mother  acquainted  Albert  with  Sali- 
cetti's  concealment.  My  brother  trembled  for  her  and 
for  me;  but  he  saw  the  necessity  of  actively  adopting 
some  precautions  for  Salicetti's  security. 

After  some  deliberation  it  was  resolved  to  adopt  Sali- 
cetti's suggestion  and  communicate  the  secret  to  Madame 
Gre"try,  the  mistress  of  the  hotel.  She  readily  entered 
into  our  views. 

"  I  can  manage  this  affair, "  said  she.  w  It  is  only  nec- 
essary that  Madame  Permon  should  change  her  apart- 
ment. There  is  a  hiding  place  in  her  chamber  which 
saved  four  people  during  the  Reign  of  Terror.  It  shall 
save  more.  At  least,  while  I  live  here." 

All  the  necessary  arrangements  were  immediately  made. 
We  gave  out  to  our  friends  that  my  mother  had  received 
a  letter  from  my  father,  in  which  he  mentioned  that  he 
was  coming  to  Paris,  and  that,  consequently,  my  mother 
was  not  to  set  off.  Some  time  after  we  were  to  pretend 
we  had  received  a  second  letter  from  my  father,  request- 
ing my  mother  to  come  to  him.  It  was  important  to 
have  a  reason  for  everything  we  did. 

Next  morning,  about  eleven  o'clock,  we  received  a  visit 
from  General  Bonaparte,  and,  as  the  scene  which  then 
ensued  made  a  greater  impression  on  me  than  almost 
any  event  of  my  life,  I  will  describe  it  minutely:  Bona- 
parte was  at  that  time  attired  in  the  costume  he  wore 
almost  ever  after.  He  had  on  a  gray  greatcoat,  very 
plainly  made,  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  a  round  hat,  which 
was  either  drawn  over  his  forehead  so  as  almost  to  con- 
ceal his  eyes,  or  stuck  upon  the  back  of  his  head  so  that 
it  appeared  in  danger  of  falling  off,  and  a  black  cravat, 
very  clumsily  tied.  This  was  Bonaparte's  usual  dress. 

At  that  period,  indeed,  nobody,  either  man  or  woman, 
paid  any  great  attention  to  elegance  of  appearance,  and 
I  must  confess  that  Bonaparte's  costume  did  not  then  ap- 
pear so  droll  as  it  now  does  on  recollection.  He  brought 
with  him  a  bouquet  of  violets,  which  he  presented  to  my 
mother.  This  piece  of  gallantry  was  so  extraordinary  on 


84  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME  JUNOT 

his  part  that  we  could  not  help  smiling  at  it.  He  smiled 
too,  and  said :  <(  I  suppose  I  make  but  a  sorry  cavalier e 
servente. " 

"Well,  Madame  Permon,"  said  he,  after  some  further 
conversation,  <(  Salicetti  will  now  in  his  turn  be  able  to 
appreciate  the  bitter  fruits  of  arrest!  And  to  him  they 
ought  to  be  the  more  bitter,  because  the  trees  which  bear 
them  were  first  planted  by  him  and  his  adherents.* 

"How,"  exclaimed  my  mother  with  an  air  of  astonish- 
ment, at  the  same  time  motioning  me  to  close  the  draw- 
ing-room door,  "is  Salicetti  arrested?* 

<(  What  ?  do  you  not  know  that  he  has  been  proscribed 
since  yesterday  ?  I  presumed  that  you  must  know  the 
fact,  since  it  was  in  your  house  that  he  was  con- 
cealed." 

"  Concealed  in  my  house ! "  cried  my  mother ;  "  surely, 
my  dear  Napoleon,  you  are  mad!  Methinks,  before  I 
entered  into  such  a  scheme  it  would  be  as  well  to  have 
a  place  I  could  call  MY  HOUSE.  I  beseech  you,  General, 
do  not  repeat  such  a  joke  in  any  other  place.  I  assure 
you  it  would  be  endangering  my  life." 

Bonaparte  rose  from  his  seat,  advanced  slowly  toward 
my  mother,  and,  crossing  his  arms,  fixed  his  eyes  on  her 
for  some  time  in  silence.  My  mother  did  not  flinch 
beneath  his  eagle  glance. 

"Madame  Permon,"  he  said,  "Salicetti  is  concealed  in 
your  house;  nay,  do  not  interrupt  me;  I  know  that  yes- 
terday, at  five  o'clock,  he  was  seen  on  the  Boulevard, 
speaking  with  Gauthier,  who  advised  him  not  to  go  to 
the  Convention.  He  then  proceeded  in  this  direction; 
and  it  is  very  well  known  that  he  has  not  in  this  neigh- 
borhood any  acquaintance,  you  excepted,  who  would  risk 
their  own  safety,  as  well  as  that  of  their  friends,  by 
secreting  him.  Now,  he  has  not  been  at  the  Palais 
Egalite";  he  therefore  must  have  fled  to  you  for  an  asy- 
lum. » 

"And  by  what  right,"  replied  my  mother,  with  un- 
shaken firmness,  "  should  Salicetti  seek  an  asylum  here  ? 
He  is  well  aware  that  our  political  sentiments  are  at 
variance;  he  knew,  too,  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  leav- 
ing Paris;  for  had  I  not  received  a  letter  from  my  hus- 
band I  should  have  been  on  the  road  to  Gascony  to-morrow 
morning. " 


DUCHESS   OF    ABRANTES  85 

w  My  dear  Madame  Permon,  you  may  well  ask  by  what 
right  he  should  apply  to  you  for  concealment.  To  come 
to  a  lone  woman,  who  might  be  compromised  for  afford- 
ing some  few  hours  of  safety  to  an  outlaw  who  merits 
his  fate,  is  an  act  to  which  no  consideration  ought  to 
have  driven  him.  You  owe  him  GRATITUDE:  that  is  a  bill 
of  exchange  you  are  bound  to  honor;  and  he  has  come 
in  person  to  demand  payment.  Has  he  not,  Mademoi- 
selle Loulou  ? }>  As  he  pronounced  these  words  he  turned 
sharply  round  toward  me. 

I  was  sitting  at  the  window  at  work,  and  at  the  mo- 
ment he  spoke  I  pretended  to  be  looking  at  one  of  the 
pots  of  flowers  which  were  before  me.  My  mother,  who 
understood  my  meaning,  said :  <(  Laurette,  General  Bona- 
parte speaks  to  you,  my  dear !  w 

Thus  challenged,  I  looked  up,  and  my  embarrassment 
might  naturally  have  been  attributed  to  my  consciousness 
of  having  been  unintentionally  rude :  so  I  hoped  at  least ; 
but  we  had  to  deal  with  one  who  was  not  to  be  imposed 
upon.  Bonaparte  took  my  hand,  and,  pressing  it  between 
both  his  own,  said  to  my  mother,  <(  I  ask  your  pardon, 
madame,  I  have  done  wrong:  your  daughter  has  taught 
me  a  lesson.* 

*  You  give  her  credit  for  what  she  does  not  deserve, J> 
replied  my  mother;  <(  she  has  taught  you  no  lesson,  but 
I  will  teach  you  one  by  and  by,  if  you  persist  in  an  as- 
sertion for  which  there  is  no  foundation,  and  which,  if 
repeated  abroad,  would  entail  very  serious  consequences 
to  me." 

In  a  tone  of   considerable    emotion    Bonaparte   replied: 

(<  Madame  Permon,  you  are  an  excellent  woman,  and 
Salicetti  is  a  villain;  you  could  not  close  your  doors 
against  him,  he  was  well  aware;  and  he  would  cause 
you  to  compromise  your  own  safety  and  that  of  your 
child!  I  never  liked  him,  now  I  despise  him;  he  has 
done  me  mischief  enough;  but  for  that  he  has  had  his 
motives,  and  you  have  known  them.  Is  it  not  so  ? w 

My  mother  shook  her  head. 

w  What !  has  Permon  never  told  you  ?  w 

«  Never. » 

(<Well,  that  is  astonishing!  But  you  shall  know  some 
day  or  other.  Salicetti,  in  that  affair  of  Loano,  behaved 
like  a  wretch.  Junot  would  have  killed  him  if  I  had 


86 

not  prevented  him.  That  spirited  youth,  animated  by 
friendship  for  me,  wanted  to  challenge  him,  and  swore 
he  would  throw  him  out  of  the  window  if  he  refused  to 
meet  him.  Now  Salicetti  is  proscribed,  and  in  his  turn 
will  have  to  experience  all  the  misery  attendant  on  a 
broken  fortune !  w 

(<  Napoleon,*  said  my  mother,  taking  him  by  the  hand, 
and  fixing  upon  him  a  look  of  kindness,  (<I  assure  you 
on  my  honor  that  Salicetti  is  not  in  my  apartments ;  but 
stay  —  shall  I  tell  you  all  ? » 

<(  Tell  me !  tell  me !  w  exclaimed  Napoleon,  with  a  vehe- 
mence uncommon  to  him. 

(<  Well,  then,  Salicetti  was  under  my  roof  yesterday  at 
six  o'clock,  but  he  left  in  a  few  hours  after.  I  pointed 
out  to  him  the  moral  impossibility  of  his  remaining  with 
me,  living  as  I  do  in  a  hotel.  Salicetti  admitted  the 
justness  of  my  objection,  and  took  his  departure." 

While  my  mother  was  speaking,  Bonaparte  kept  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  her  with  indescribable  earnestness ;  when 
she  had  concluded,  he  began  to  pace  about  the  room 
with  hurried  steps. 

<( 'Tis  just  as  I  suspected !  w  he  exclaimed.  <(  He  was 
coward  enough  to  say  to  a  woman,  ( Expose  your  life 
for  mine.*  But  did  the  wretch  who  came  to  interest 
you  in  his  fate,  did  he  tell  you  that  he  had  just  assassinated 
one  of  his  colleagues  ?  Had  he,  think  you,  even  washed 
his  gory  hands  before  he  touched  yours  to  implore  your 
protection  ? }> 

(<  Napoleon !  Napoleon !  ®  exclaimed  my  mother  in  Ital- 
ian, <(  this  is  too  much !  Be  silent ;  if  you  are  not,  leave 
me!  Though  the  man  has  been  murdered,  it  does  not 
follow  that  it  is  his  fault.® 

Whenever  my  mother  was  violently  excited  she  always 
spoke  Italian  or  Greek,  and  often  to  people  who  under- 
stood neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  Salicetti  heard  the 
whole  of  this  conversation,  for  he  was  separated  from  us 
only  by  a  thin  partition.  As  for  me,  I  trembled  under 
the  momentary  expectation  of  seeing  him  issue  from  his 
hiding  place.  I  then  knew  but  little  of  the  world. 
After  some  further  conversation  of  the  same  kind,  Bona- 
parte rose  to  take  his  leave.  <(  Then  you  really  believe 
he  returned  home  ? w  said  he,  as  he  took  up  his  hat. 

<(  Yes, M  replied  my  mother ;  <(  I  told  him  that,  since  he 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  87 

must  conceal  himself  in  Paris,  it  were  best  to  bribe  the 
people  of  his  own  hotel,  because  that  would  be  the  last 
place  where  his  enemies  would  think  of  searching-  for 
him."  Bonaparte  then  left  us,  and  it  was  high  time,  for 
my  poor  mother  was  exhausted.  She  beckoned  me  to  go 
and  bolt  her  chamber  door,  and  open  that  of  Salicetti's 
retreat. 

I  never  liked  Salicetti.  There  was  something  about  him 
which  to  me  was  always  repulsive.  When  I  read  the 
story  of  the  (<  Vampire, w  I  associated  that  fictitious  char- 
acter with  the  recollection  of  Salicetti.  His  pale  jaun- 
diced complexion,  his  dark  glaring  eyes,  his  lips,  which 
turned  deadly  white  whenever  he  was  agitated  by  any 
powerful  emotion,  all  seemed  present  to  me. 

When  I  opened  the  door  after  Bonaparte's  departure 
the  sight  of  Salicetti  produced  in  me  a  feeling  of  hor- 
ror which  I  shall  never  forget.  He  sat  on  a  small  chair 
at  the  bedside,  his  head  leaning  on  his  hand,  which  was 
covered  with  blood,  as  was  likewise  the  bed  itself,  and 
a  basin  over  which  he  was  leaning  was  full.  He  had 
been  seized  with  a  hemorrhage,  and  streams  of  blood 
were  running  from  his  mouth  and  nose.  His  face  was 
frightfully  pallid,  and  his  whole  appearance  affected  me 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  haunted  me  in  dreams  a  long 
time  after.  My  mother  ran  to  him;  he  had  nearly 
swooned.  She  took  his  hand;  it  was  quite  cold.  We 
called  up  Mariette,  and  on  her  applying  some  vinegar 
to  his  nose  he  recovered. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  Trial  of  Romme,  Soubrani,  and  Their  Colleagues — Project  for 
Saving  Salicetti  —  Sentence  and  Death  of  the  Prisoners — Horrible 
Scene. 

PREPARATIONS  were    making  for  the  trial  of  the  parties 
accused  of   the   proceedings   of    May.     The    officers 
were  on  the  lookout  for  Salicetti  and  another  repre- 
sentative.    Salicetti    was    not  beloved   by  his  colleagues. 


88  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

He  was  certainly  a  man  of  talent,  and  full  of  ambition; 
but  the  projects  he  wished  to  realize  were  of  a  nature 
to  bring  down  on  their  author  severe  retribution. 

Romme,  a  distinguished  mathematician,  was  already 
arrested,  as  was  also  Goujon,  who,  since  the  opening  of 
the  Convention,  had  rendered  himself  remarkable  for 
his  private  virtues  and  Republican  sentiments;  Soubrani, 
Duquesnoi,  Duroi,  and  Bourbotte  were  also  in  custody. 
Each  of  these  individuals  was  distinguished,  as  well  by 
his  personal  character  as  by  his  statesmanlike  qualities. 
What  reflections  were  awakened  at  seeing  such  men 
seated  on  the  criminal  bench! 

My  mother  received  a  letter  from  my  father,  who, 
having  heard  of  the  danger  of  Salicetti,  desired  her  to 
do  whatever  she  could  to  render  him  assistance.  This 
letter  was  delivered  to  her  by  M.  Emilhaud,  of  Bordeaux, 
a  gentleman  who  appeared  to  possess  the  full  confidence 
of  my  father. 

One  day,  when  M.  Emilhaud  called  upon  my  mother, 
he  brought  with  him  a  Spanish  General,  named  Miranda. 
While  these  gentlemen  were  in  the  drawing-room  con- 
versing with  my  mother,  I  had  occasion  to  pass  through 
the  antechamber;  but  no  sooner  had  I  entered  than  I 
started  suddenly.  I  thought  I  saw  Salicetti  standing  be- 
fore me.  Never  was  resemblance  more  striking,  except 
that  the  individual  whom  I  for  a  moment  mistook  for 
Salicetti  was  not  quite  so  tall  as  he.  The  man  was  a 
Spaniard,  in  the  service  of  General  Miranda. 

By  chance  I  mentioned  this  resemblance  without  think- 
ing it  a  matter  of  importance.  However,  it  happened  to 
suggest  a  lucky  idea  to  my  mother. 

w  We  are  saved !  w  she  exclaimed.  <(  It  will  be  hard  in- 
deed if  we  cannot  find  in  all  Paris  a  man  five  feet  six 
inches  ( French )  high,  with  a  face  like  General  Miranda's 
servant. M  My  brother,  Salicetti,  and  Madame  Gre"try 
were  immediately  summoned  to  hold  a  council. 

<(I  must  look  out  for  a  valet, w  said  my  mother;  (<  and 
when  I  find  one  who  WILL  SUIT  ME,  I  will  take  him  to 
the  Section  to  get  a  passport.  Having  got  possession  of 
the  passport,  I  can  easily  find  a  pretense  to  quarrel  with 
my  valet,  and  if  I  turn  him  off  with  a  month's  wages 
he  will  no  doubt  be  very  well  satisfied."  My  mother 
clapped  her  little  hands  at  the  thought  of  this  stratagem. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  89 

She  was  quite  overjoyed;  but,  alas!  a  scene  speedily 
ensued  which  changed  all  her  happiness  to  grief  and 
horror. 

Meanwhile  the  trial  of  the  prisoners  came  on.  They 
had  been  brought  to  Paris,  and  the  special  court-martial 
appointed  to  try  them  held  its  sittings  in  the  Rue  Neuve- 
des-Petits  Champs.  Salicetti  was  the  only  one  who  had 
escaped  the  grasp  of  justice;  and,  urged  by  his  anxiety, 
my  brother  was  constantly  on  the  road  from  our  hotel 
to  the  Rue  Neuve-des-Petits  Champs  during  the  short 
time  that  was  expended  in  deliberating  on  the  fate  of 
the  unfortunate  men. 

One  day  he  returned  home  dreadfully  agitated.  He 
had  witnessed  an  awful  scene.  Romme,  Soubrani,  Duroi, 
Duquesnoi,  Goujon,  and  Bourbotte  were  condemned. 
During  their  trial  they  had  exhibited  the  most  admirable 
fortitude,  feeling,  and  patriotism.  The  conduct  of  Romme, 
in  particular,  is  said  to  have  been  sublime. 

When  sentence  was  pronounced  on  them  they  surveyed 
each  other  calmly  and  serenely,  and  on  descending  the 
grand  staircase,  which  was  lined  with  spectators,  Romme 
looked  about  as  if  seeking  somebody.  Probably  the  per- 
son who  had  promised  to  be  there  had  not  the  courage 
to  attend.  <(  No  matter, *  said  he;  "with  a  firm  hand 
this  will  do.  Vive  la  Libert/!  w 

Then,  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  very  large  penknife, 
or  perhaps  it  might  more  properly  be  called  a  small 
poniard,  he  plunged  it  into  his  heart,  and,  drawing  it  out 
again,  gave  it  to  Goujon,  who,  in  like  manner,  passed  it  to 
Duquesnoi.  All  three  fell  dead  instantly  without  uttering 
a  groan.  The  weapon  of  deliverance,  transmitted  to  Sou- 
brani by  the  trembling  hands  of  Duquesnoi,  found  its  way 
to  the  noble  hearts  of  the  rest ;  but  they  were  not  so  for- 
tunate as  their  three  friends.  Grievously  wounded,  but 
yet  alive,  they  fell  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold,  which  the 
executioners  made  them  ascend,  bleeding  and  mutilated 
as  they  were.  Such  barbarity  would  scarcely  have  been 
committed  by  savages. 

My  brother  stood  so  near  Romme,  to  whom  he  wished 
to  address  a  few  words  of  friendship  and  consolation, 
that  the  blood  of  the  unfortunate  man  dropped  upon  him. 
My  brother's  coat  was  stained  with  the  scarcely-cold  blood 
of  a  man  who  only  a  few  days  before  was  seated  in  the 


90  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

very  chamber,  perhaps  in  the  very  chair,  in  which  Albert 
was  then  sitting. 

The  appearance  of  Salicetti  inspired  nothing  but  horror ; 
indeed,  I  could  not  bear  to  look  on  him,  so  much  did  I 
dread  his  aspect.  Without  any  consideration  for  my 
brother's  feelings,  he  made  him  repeat,  over  and  over 
again,  the  dreadful  details  of  the  tragedy  he  had  just 
witnessed. 

Bonaparte  had  gone  to  Saint- Maur  to  spend  a  few  days. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  going  there  occasionally,  though 
I  do  not  know  to  whom.  I  have  since  put  the  question 
to  Junot,  who  declared  he  knew  nothing  of  the  matter, 
and  added  that  Bonaparte  was  very  reserved  on  some  sub- 
jects. 

When  informed  of  the  horrible  catastrophe  detailed 
above,  he  expressed  the  genuine  emotions  of  his  heart; 
and  in  spite  of  all  that  Madame  Bourrienne  says,*  I 
maintain  that  at  this  period  he  was  a  very  feeling  man. 

Bonaparte  had  in  general  a  bad  delivery;  I  mean  to 
say  he  was  not  eloquent  in  his  manner  of  expressing 
himself.  His  concise  style  took  from  his  language  that 
air  of  courtesy,  or  at  least  of  elegance,  which  is  indis- 
pensable to  the  most  ordinary  conversation.  The  fact  is, 

*«I  remarked  at  this  period,'*  wrote  Mme.  de  Bourrienne  of  Na- 
poleon, in  1795,  <(that  his  character  was  reserved,  and  frequently 
gloomy.  His  smile  was  hypocritical,  and  often  misplaced ;  and  I  recol- 
lect that  a  few  days  after  our  return  he  gave  us  one  of  those  specimens 
of  savage  hilarity  which  I  greatly  disliked,  and  which  prepossessed  me 
against  him.  He  was  telling  us  that  being  before  Toulon,  where  he 
commanded  the  artillery,  one  of  his  officers  was  visited  by  his  wife,  to 
whom  he  had  been  but  a  short  time  married,  and  whom  he  tenderly 
loved.  A  few  days  after,  orders  were  given  for  another  attack  upon  the 
town,  in  which  this  officer  was  to  be  engaged.  His  wife  came  to 
General  Bonaparte,  and  with  tears  entreated  him  to  dispense  with  her 
husband's  services  that  day.  The  General  was  inexorable,  as  he  him- 
self told  us,  with  a  sort  of  savage  exultation.  The  moment  for  the 
attack  arrived,  and  the  officer,  though  a  very  brave  man,  as  Bonaparte 
himself  assured  us,  felt  a  presentiment  of  his  approaching  death.  He 
turned  pale,  and  trembled.  He  was  stationed  beside  the  General,  and 
Curing  an  interval  when  the  firing  from  the  town  was  very  heavy  Bona- 
parte called  out  to  him,  (Take  care,  there  is  a  shell  coming  !>  The 
officer,  instead  of  moving  to  one  side,  stooped  down,  and  was  literally 
severed  in  two.  Bonaparte  laughed  loudly  while  he  described  the 
event  with  horrible  minuteness. w  —  Bourrienne's  (<  Memoirs  of  Napoleon 
Bonaparte, M  edited  by  R.  W.  Phipps  ;  London  :  Bentley,  1885,  vol.  i., 
P-  31- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  91 

he  was  only  eloquent  at  moments  when  his  heart  ex- 
panded ;  then  it  was,  as  the  fairy  legends  say,  that  pearls 
and  rubies  dropped  from  his  mouth. 

The  present  was  one  of  those  occasions,  and  the  un- 
fortunate men  who  had  just  suffered  found  in  Bonaparte 
an  admirable  panegyrist.  Far  different  was  his  language 
toward  Salicetti,  Freron,  and  all  those  who,  he  said, 
wanted  to  renew  the  Reign  of  Terror.  The  mention  of 
these  names  led  him  to  speak  of  himself,  and  of  his 
blighted  hopes  and  his  misfortunes.  (<  Yet  I  am  only 
twenty-six  years  old,*  exclaimed  he,  striking  his  forehead 
— (<only  twenty-six." 

He  then  regarded  my  mother  with  a  look  so  melancholy 
that  she  said,  after  he  was  gone,  <(  When  I  think  on  that 
young  man's  unhappiness,  I  almost  reproach  myself  for 
what  I  have  done  for  his  enemy. M 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

Salicetti's  Proxy — We  Procure  Our  Passports  —  Our  Departure  for 
Bordeaux  —  The  First  Post  —  Generous  Letter  from  Bonaparte  —  Sali- 
cetti's Ingratitude  — Otu  Arrival  at  Bordeaux  —  Difficulty  of  Obtain- 
ing a  Vessel  for  Salicetti — We  Proceed  to  Cette — Salicetti  Sails  for 
Genoa  —  Our  Arrival  at  Montpellier. 

WE  HAD  above  thirty  applicants  for  the  valet's   situa- 
tion, but  none    of   them    would    do.     When    any- 
one presented  himself  who    did   not    possess   the 
requisite  personal  qualifications,  my  mother   immediately 
sent  him  about  his  business.     What  trampling  there  was 
up  and  down  the  staircase  of  the  Hotel  de    la   Tranquil- 
lite"  ! 

At  last  an  overgrown  boy,  named  Gabriel  Tachard, 
made  his  appearance.  He  bore,  it  is  true,  no  resem- 
blance to  Salicetti,  yet  we  thought  he  might  pass  very 
well  for  his  proxy  at  the  Section.  He  was  a  stupid  fel- 
low, who  would  not  certainly  have  remained  in  my 
mother's  service  a  week,  but  he  possessed  the  conjoined 
recommendations  of  being  exactly  five  feet  six,  with 
black  eyes  and  hair,  a  straight  nose,  round  chin,  and  a 


92  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

sallow  complexion,  and  slightly  marked  with    the    small- 
pox. 

The  next  quality  to  be  combined  with  all  these  was 
the  right  age,  or  at  least  the  semblance  of  it;  for  Sali- 
cetti  was,  I  believe,  at  that  period  thirty.  However,  we 
went  to  the  Section,  my  brother,  myself,  Mariette,  Gabriel 
Tachard,  and  Madame  Gre"try,  who  was  to  answer  for  her 
lodger. 

We  were  supplied  with  passports,  and  all  returned 
pleased,  my  mother  and  myself  at  the  prospect  of  leav- 
ing Paris,  Gabriel  at  having,  as  he  thought,  obtained  a 
good  place,  and  Madame  Gr£try  at  getting  rid  of  her 
lodgers;  for,  spite  of  its  name,  her  hotel  had  been  one 
uninterrupted  scene  of  tumult  ever  since  Salicetti  had, 
by  dint  of  gold,  obtained  permission  to  make  it  his  hid- 
ing place. 

For  the  last  eight  days  my  mother  had  given  out  to 
her  friends  that  my  father  expected  her  at  Bordeaux. 
She  now  received  another  letter,  enjoining  her  instant 
departure.  In  consequence,  she  determined  to  set  off  in 
two  days. 

<(  You  do  well  to  go, w  said  Bonaparte,  taking  her  hand, 
and  looking  at  her  significantly ;  (<  and  yet  you  were  wise 
in  not  going  sooner. w  <(  Why  so  ? w  (<Oh,  I  cannot  tell 
you  now ;  but  you  shall  know  before  you  return  to  Paris. M 
<(  But  I  cannot  wait ;  you  know  that  we  women  are  curi- 
ous. w  (<  Well,  you  shall  know  the  reason.  At  what  time 
do  you  set  out  ? w  <(  I  do  not  exactly  know ;  but  I  sup- 
pose about  eleven  or  twelve  to-night,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  heat.  It  is  best  in  hot  weather  to  travel  by  night 
and  sleep  by  day. w  (<  Exactly  so ;  an  excellent  thought, 
that.  Well, w  continued  he,  (<you  shall  know  my  little 
secret  when  you  arrive  at  Longjumeau. >J  <(And  why  at 
Longjumeau  ? w  <(  It  is  a  whim  of  mine,*  replied  he. 
<(  Well,  be  it  so ;  but  I  must  tell  you  en  passant,  my  dear 
Napoleon,  that  you  are  a  sad  teazer. w 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  our  dinner  hour 
arrived  and  Napoleon  stayed  and  dined  with  us.  During 
dinner  he  said  to  my  mother: 

<(  I  wish  you  would  take  me  with  you  on  this  journey. 
I  will  go  and  see  my  mother  while  you  are  settling  your 
business  at  Bordeaux  and  Toulouse;  I  will  then  rejoin 
you  and  M.  Permon,  and  we  will  all  return  together  to 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  93 

Paris.  I  am  quite  idle  here,  thanks  to  that  villain  who 
has  ruined  me.  I  am  now  ready  to  be  anything — a 
Chinese,  a  Turk,  or  a  Hottentot.  Indeed,  if  you  do 
not  take  me  with  you  I  shall  go  to  Turkey  or  to  China. 
There  the  British  power  may  be  most  effectively  injured 
by  a  commercial  treaty  with  the  Turks  or  Chinese." 

He  then  began  to  talk  on  politics  with  my  brother,  and 
in  less  than  an  hour's  time  the  Emperor  of  China  was 
converted  to  Catholicism,  and  the  Grand  Calao  was 
superseded  by  a  Minister  of  Justice. 

At  length  the  day  of  our  departure  arrived.  Several 
of  our  friends  came  to  take  leave  of  us,  and,  among 
others,  Bonaparte.  He  stepped  up  to  my  mother,  and, 
taking  her  by  the  hand,  said  in  a  low  tone,  <(  When  you 
return,  think  of  this  day.  We  may,  perhaps,  never 
meet  again.  Ere  long  my  destiny  will  lead  me  far  from 
France;  but,  wheresoever  I  go,  I  shall  ever  be  your 
faithful  friend. » 

My  mother  answered  him  that  he  might  at  all  times 
reckon  on  her  friendship.  <(  You  know,  my  dear  Bona- 
parte, "  she  added,  <(  that  I  look  upon  you  in  the  light  of 
my  Albert's  brother. B 

Our  friends  departed;  post  horses  were  procured,  and 
Madame  Gre'try,  though  already  munificently  rewarded, 
was  promised  besides  a  considerable  present  when  Sali- 
cetti  should  have  embarked.  As  to  the  valet,  my  mother 
dismissed  him  with  a  month's  wages  in  advance,  to  his 
infinite  satisfaction.  Salicetti  then  assumed  the  name  of 
Gabriel  Tachard,  under  which  he  was  to  travel  into  the 
south  of  France. 

We  set  out.  Salicetti  seated  himself  on  the  box  of  my 
mother's  traveling  berlin,  and  we  got  out  of  Paris  with- 
out any  other  delay  than  that  occasioned  by  the  exam- 
ination at  the  barrier.  The  postilion,  on  the  promise  of 
something  to  drink,  brought  us  with  the  speed  of  light- 
ning to  the  Croix  de  Berney.  As  we  were  about  to 
start  again,  the  first  postilion  from  the  Paris  post  came 
to  the  door  of  the  coach  and  asked  for  citoyenne  Per- 
mon.  My  mother  asked  him  what  he  wanted. 

<(I  have  a  letter  for  you,"  said  he.  <(  You  surely  are 
mistaken !  J>  said  my  mother ;  <(  it  cannot  be  for  me !  " 

No,w  rejoined  the  man;  <(  I  do  not  mistake,  if  you  are 
citoyenne  Permon. w 


94  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

At  that  instant  the  recollection  of  the  words  of  Bona- 
parte flashed  across  my  mother's  memory.  She  took  the 
letter,  and  offered  the  bearer  an  assignat  of  five  francs; 
but  he  refused  to  accept  it,  saying  that  he  had  been 
already  paid  by  THE  YOUNG  MAN.  At  the  season  of  the 
year  at  which  we  were  traveling  the  nights  were  short; 
my  mother's  curiosity  was  not,  therefore,  kept  long  in 
suspense;  daylight  soon  enabled  her  to  peruse  the  letter. 
The  handwriting  neither  of  us  knew.  I  have  since, 
however,  learned  that  it  was  Junot's. 

This  very  singular  epistle  places  the  character  of  Na- 
poleon in  a  light  from  which  his  enemies  have  often 
sought  to  exclude  it.  It  was  couched  in  the  following 
words : 

( Translation. ) 

*  I  never  like  to  be  thought  a  dupe.  I  should  seem  to  be  one  in  your 
eyes  if  I  did  not  tell  you  that  I  knew  of  Salicetti's  place  of  concealment 
more  than  twenty  days  ago.  You  may  recollect,  Madame  Permon, 
what  I  said  to  you  on  the  first  of  Prairial.  I  was  almost  morally 
certain  of  the  fact ;  now  I  know  it  positively. 

«You  see  then,  Salicetti,  that  I  might  have  returned  the  ill  you  did  to 
me.  In  so  doing  I  should  only  have  avenged  myself ;  but  you  injured 
me  when  I  had  not  offended  you.  Which  of  us  stands  in  the  preferable 
point  of  view  at  this  moment  ?  I  might  have  taken  my  revenge ;  but  I 
did  not  Perhaps  you  will  say  that  your  benefactress  was  your  safe- 
guard. That  consideration,  I  confess,  was  powerful.  But  alone,  un- 
armed, and  an  outlaw,  your  life  would  have  been  sacred  to  me.  Go, 
seek  in  peace  an  asylum  where  you  may  learn  to  cherish  better 
sentiments  for  your  country.  About  your  name  my  mouth  is  closed. 
Repent,  and  appreciate  my  motives. 

(<  Madame  Permon,  my  best  wishes  are  with  you  and  your  child. 
You  are  feeble  and  defenseless  beings.  May  Providence  and  a  friend's 
prayers  protect  you !  Be  cautious,  and  do  not  stay  in  the  large  towns 
through  which  you  may  have  to  pass. 

« Adieu. » 

The  letter  had  no  signature.  My  mother,  after  having 
read  it,  remained  for  some  time  absorbed  in  profound 
reflection.  She  then  handed  it  to  me,  desiring  me  in 
Greek  to  read  it  to  myself.  I  was  thunderstruck.  The 
look  which  accompanied  the  few  words  my  mother  said 
to  me  in  Greek  sufficiently  indicated  on  whom  her  sus- 
picion lay;  and,  I  confess,  I  could  not  help  sharing  it. 

I  looked  at  Mariette,  who  rode  in  the  carriage  with  us. 
She  was  pale,  and  her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping.  I 
had  observed  that  she  had  been  singularly  low-spirited, 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  95 

and  sighed  frequently  during  the  whole  of  the  journey. 
I  was  convinced  my  conjecture  was  right. 

We  stopped  to  breakfast.  I  think  it  was  at  Etampes; 
and  my  mother  showed  Salicetti  the  letter.  He  read  it 
over  and  over  at  least  ten  times.  At  length  he  ex- 
claimed, <(  I  am  lost !  I  am  lost !  Fool  that  I  was,  to 
trust  to  a  woman's  prudence ! * 

w  Salicetti,*  said  my  mother,  suppressing  her  irritation, 
w  you  yourself  have  been  the  only  imprudent  person  in 
this  affair,  and  your  unjust  reproach  is  a  compliment  to 
us  —  I  mean  to  my  daughter  and  me;  for  you  must  rely 
very  confidently  on  our  generosity,  when  you  can  venture 
to  reward  us  thus  for  all  that  we  have  done  for  you.* 

Before  my  mother  had  ended  her  reply,  Salicetti  al- 
ready repented  of  his  foolish  exclamation.  He  very  hum- 
bly asked  our  pardon.  He  then  said  he  had  heard  us 
express  some  suspicion  of  Mariette.  "Never  mind  — 
never  mind,*  said  my  mother.  <(  You  ought  rather  to 
admire  the  noble  conduct  of  Bonaparte;  it  is  most  gen- 
erous!* 

"Generous!*  repeated  Salicetti,  with  a  contemptuous 
smile.  <(  What  would  you  have  had  him  do  ?  Would  you 
have  wished  him  to  betray  me  ?  * 

My  mother  looked  at  him  steadfastly,  and  then  said: 
(<  I  do  not  know  what  I  would  have  him  do ;  but  this  I 
know,  that  I  should  wish  to  see  YOU  grateful.* 

I  may  here  mention  that  Mariette  was  really  the  guilty 
party.  Bonaparte's  servant  was  her  lover;  his  master 
profited  by  this  circumstance;  and  the  present  of  a  gold 
cross  induced  the  poor  girl  to  betray  a  secret  which 
might  have  compromised  the  safety  of  the  whole  house. 
As  to  my  mother,  her  fate  was  certain. 

When  we  had  passed  through  Tours,  Salicetti  traveled 
inside  the  berlin.  As  we  drove  along  we  heard  noth- 
ing but  imprecations  against  the  Convention,  and  all 
those  who  had  wished  to  bring  back  the  Reign  of  Ter- 
ror. The  people  were  in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 
<(  Heavens!  *  said  my  mother,  (<  if  you  were  known  here, 
what  would  become  of  us!* 

We  had  good  reason  for  alarm  in  several  parts  of  our 
journey;  but  at  length  we  arrived  in  safety  at  Bordeaux. 
There,  to  our  great  surprise,  instead  of  finding  my  father, 
we  found  only  a  letter  from  him,  in  which  he  informed 


96  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

us  that  he  was  obliged  to  depart  for  the  country,  but  that 
his  friend  M.  Emilhaud  would  attend  my  mother;  and 
he  gave  her  his  address,  that  she  might  send  for  him  on 
her  arrival. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterward  M.  Emilhaud  was 
with  us.  We  learned  from  him  that  my  father  had  made 
unavailing  inquiries  for  a  vessel  that  would  convey  a 
passenger  to  Italy.  None  would  start  for  the  space  of  a 
fortnight.  Ships  were  going  to  the  United  States,  to  St. 
Domingo,  and  to  England ;  but  Salicetti  neither  could  nor 
would  go  anywhere,  except  to  Genoa  or  Venice.  My 
mother  was  in  despair. 

Next  day,  however,  Laudois,  my  father's  -valet  de  cham- 
bre,  came  to  us.  He  informed  us  that  my  father  had  as- 
certained that  at  Narbonne  or  at  Cette  a  vessel  would 
sail  for  Genoa,  and  several  for  Venice.  He  had,  in  con- 
sequence, made  an  arrangement  with  the  master  of  a 
yacht  to  convey  us  up  the  Garonne  as  far  as  Toulouse, 
and  from  thence  by  the  canal  to  Carcassonne.  The  car- 
riage could  be  taken  on  board  the  yacht;  and  from  Car- 
cassonne we  should  only  have  to  travel  a  few  leagues  to 
reach  Cette  or  Narbonne. 

My  father  thought  this  mode  of  traveling  much  safer 
for  us  than  by  land,  on  account  of  the  rigid  orders  that 
had  everywhere  been  issued.  Salicetti  was  quite  of  my 
father's  opinion;  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Laudois, 
we  were  soon  on  board  the  yacht  and  sailing  up  the 
Garonne. 

We  soon  arrived  at  Carcassonne,  and  from  thence  reached 
Narbonne;  but  here  we  found  no  vessel  going  to  Italy. 
We  proceeded  to  Cette;  and  there  we  learned  that  two 
vessels  were  about  to  sail,  the  one  in  two  days  for  Tri- 
este, and  the  other  that  same  evening  for  Genoa. 

The  captain  of  the  latter  vessel,  which,  singularly 
enough  was  named  the  <(  Convention, w  informed  us  that 
he  should  be  under  way  at  nine  o'clock ;  and,  as  the  wind 
was  fair,  he  should  not  be  long  in  reaching  his  destina- 
tion. Salicetti  was  inclined  to  wait  for  the  vessel  bound 
for  Trieste,  but  my  mother  would  hear  of  no  further  de- 
lay. She  observed  that  the  wind  might  not  be  fair  for 
Trieste  on  the  day  appointed,  and  that  it  was  best  to 
take  advantage  of  the  favorable  breeze  that  was  blowing 
that  evening. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  97 

We  sat  down  to  dinner;  and  when  we  had  ended  our 
repast  Laudois  and  the  servants  of  the  inn  conveyed  the 
baggage  of  the  fugitive  on  board  the  vessel.  Salicetti 
stepped  up  to  my  mother,  and  taking  both  her  hands  in 
his  said: 

(<  I  should  have  too  much  to  say,  Madame  Permon, 
were  I  to  attempt  to  express  my  gratitude  by  words. 
As  to  Bonaparte,  tell  him  I  thank  him.  Hitherto  I  did 
not  believe  him  capable  of  generosity;  I  am  now  bound 
to  acknowledge  my  mistake.  I  thank  him." 

He  jumped  into  a  little  boat  with  the  captain  of  the 
<(  Convention, w  and  was  soon  on  board  the  vessel  which 
was  to  convey  him  to  the  shore  where  he  hoped  to  find 
refuge  rather  than  hospitality.  We  slept  that  night  at 
the  inn  at  Cette;  and  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  we 
set  out  for  Montpellier.  On  our  arrival  there  I  discov- 
ered that  death,  emigration,  and  civil  discord  had  com- 
mitted melancholy  ravages  in  that  city. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Couder's  Invitation  to  My  Father  —  Salicetti's  Letter  to  My  Mother  — 
Madame  de  Saint  Ange  —  Her  Present  to  Bonaparte  —  Trading 
Speculation  —  Bonaparte  and  Bartolomeo  Peraldi. 

MY  FATHER'S  health  had  suffered  from  the  miseries  of 
the    Revolution.       His    feelings    and    his    interests 
were  alike  wounded.     The  vexations   he    had    suf- 
fered brought  on  a  serious  illness,  which  was  augmented 
by  the  state  of  seclusion  in  which  he  chose  to  live.     My 
mother  was   accustomed   to   mingle  with    the    world,  and 
her  quick  perception   soon   enabled  her   to   discover  that 
my  father's  situation  was  not  without  danger. 

Couder,  the  procureur  of  the  Commune,  whom  I  have 
already  mentioned  as  a  worthy,  honest  man,  warned  my 
mother  of  the  disagreeable  reports  which  were  in  circu- 
lation at  Toulouse  respecting  my  father. 

(<  It  is  said, w  observed    Couder,   (<  that   he   is    ill    of   the 
aristocratic  fever;  I  denied  the  truth  of   the    report,  and 
contended  that  the  citizen  Permon  was   a  stanch  Repub- 
lican.     I    know   very   well,"    replied   he,  smiling   signifi- 
7 


98  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

cantly,  (<  that  that  is  not  quite  true ;  but  there  is  no  harm 
in  a  little  falsehood  sometimes.  However,  if  you  will 
take  my  advice  you  will  force  citizen  Permon  a  little 
more  into  society.  If  he  would  do  me  the  honor  to 
accept  a  place  in  my  box  at  the  theater  —  if  .  .  . » 
Here  Couder  was  a  little  embarrassed. 

<(  Generous  man ! *  cried  my  mother,  as  she  shook  the 
honest  shoemaker's  rough  hand ;  <(  generous  man !  —  yes, 
we  will  come  to  your  box;  I  am  sure  Permon  and  I  will 
feel  honored  by  your  kind  offer. * 

(<  Charles, *  said  she  to  my  father,  as  soon  as  the  pro- 
cureur  had  left  her,  <(  do  you  know  what  Couder  has 
been  saying  ? *  and  she  related  the  conversation  which 
had  taken  place,  without  forgetting  the  proposition  about 
the  box.  My  father  turned  red  and  made  no  reply.  But 
when  my  mother  pressed  him  for  an  answer,  he  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and,  with  a  bitter  smile,  said: 

<(  What  a  question !  What  would  you  have  me  do  ? 
Citizen  Couder *  (and  he  laid  a  great  emphasis  on  the 
word  CITIZEN)  (<  summons  citizen  Permon  to  the  bar  of  his 
box.  We  must  of  course  go;  that  is  better  than  to  be 
dragged  to  a  dungeon  by  gendarmes;  I  have  only  that 
alternative.  I  believe  this  is  a  second  Thirion.  O  Marie, 
Marie,  you  might  have  spared  me  this  insult ! * 

My  mother  burst  into  tears.  (<  Charles,  *  she  exclaimed, 
*  you  view  this  matter  in  a  wrong  light ;  you  misconstrue 
the  intentions  of  your  friends.  Do  you  believe  that  I  would 
have  listened  to  an  invitation  which  bore  the  least  ap- 
pearance of  an  insult  to  you  ? * 

(<  Doubtless,  my  dear  Marie, *  exclaimed  my  father, 
impatiently  interrupting  her ;  *  let  this  man  make  your 
shoes,  but  speak  to  me  no  more  about  his  box.  I  am 
tired  of  this,*  said  he,  throwing  himself  upon  his  couch. 
There  the  conversation  ended;  and  it  may  be  supposed 
that  my  father  did  not  go  to  the  theater. 

Couder  was  told  that  my  father  was  ill,  and  he  received 
the  excuse  without  appearing  hurt.  Had  he  listened  to 
the  dictates  of  wounded  pride  he  might  have  done  us  a 
great  deal  of  harm. 

Salicetti  often  wrote  to  my  mother.  Shortly  after  the 
scene  I  have  just  described  she  received  a  letter  from 
him  which  showed  that  he  had  heard  my  father  was  hos- 
tile to  the  Government. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  99 

w  Be  on  your  guard,  dear  Signora  Panoria,w  he  said; 
w  I  hear  that  plots  are  being  secretly  and  silently  organ- 
ized. They  say  the  Royalists  are  about  to  rise.  Cer- 
tainly, I  am  far  from  suspecting  citizen  Permon  of 
engaging  in  any  conspiracy,  for  I  HAVE  PLEDGED  MY 
WORD  FOR  HIM.  But  others,  dear  citizen,  will  suspect 
that  his  wish  to  remain  secluded  arises  from  the  desire 
to  conceal  some  culpable  design  from  scrutinizing  eyes. 
Prevail  on  him  to  mix  a  little  more  with  society; 
you  always  had  an  attractive  house.  Why  should 
not  your  drawing-room  at  Toulouse  be  as  it  was  in 
Paris  ? » 

My  mother  showed  this  letter  to  my  father,  who  at 
length  saw  the  danger  of  exciting  toward  us  the  attention 
of  suspicious  authority.  My  mother  knew  already  almost 
everybody  in  Toulouse,  and  our  home  was  speedily  one 
of  the  gayest  in  the  town.  By  a  singular  chance  my 
mother  found  in  Toulouse  one  of  her  cousins,  from 
Corsica,  whom  I  used  to  call  my  aunt.  Mademoiselle 
Stephanopoli  had  married  M.  de  Saint  Ange,  a  distin- 
guished naval  officer,  who,  having  quitted  the  service  at 
the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolution,  purchased  at  Saint 
Michel  de  Lunez,  near  Castlenaudary,  an  ancient  chdtcau, 
formerly  belonging  to  the  Polignacs.  There  he  resided 
with  his  wife  and  seven  lovely  children.  Madame  de 
Saint  Ange  and  my  mother  were  delighted  to  meet  again. 
Mademoiselle  Stephanopoli  was,  like  my  mother,  the 
friend  of  Laetitia  Bonaparte. 

(<  Well,  Panoria, M  said  she  one  day,  (<  you  see  one  of 
Laetitia  Ramolini's  sons  has  made  his  way  in  the  world. 
That  young  man  is  likely  to  become  a  General  of  Division. 
I  confess  that  I  should  not  have  expected  it,  for  Joseph 
was  the  one  I  thought  would  raise  up  the  family.  And 
the  Archdeacon w 

(<Oh!  do  not  mention  the  Archdeacon,"  exclaimed  my 
mother ;  (<  I  was  tired  of  hearing  his  name  before  we  left 
Corsica.  ° 

K  But,  figlia  mia, J>  replied  my  aunt,  who  was  as  lively 
as  a  girl  of  fifteen,  (<  though  the  Archdeacon  is  no  favorite 
of  yours  he  is  nevertheless  a  person  of  great  importance 
in  the  Bonaparte  family.  I  think  with  him  that  Joseph 
is  the  flower  of  the  flock.  He  is  so  handsome  and  so 
well  bred.  Napoleon  is  downright  ugly,  figlia  mia  ;  as 


ioo  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

stupid  as  a  mule,  and  very  ill-behaved  —  though  he  is 
your  prottgt!,  figlia  mia  /  w 

(<  Ah,  cousin,  *  replied  my  mother,  <(  I  see  he  has  done 
something  to  offend  you,  and,  like  a  true  Corsican,  you 
will  not  forgive  him."  My  aunt  laughed.  The  fact  was, 
Bonaparte  had  offended  her  only  a  few  months  previously. 
I  will  relate  how. 

At  that  period  almost  everyone  endeavored  to  increase 
the  little  fortune  they  might  have  saved  from  the  wreck. 
Few  were  such  fools  as  to  be  too  proud  to  do  this.  My 
aunt  found  that  she  might  earn  some  money  by  trans- 
mitting to  the  ports  of  Provence  goods  for  the  Corsican 
market,  and  bartering  them  for  others.  Some  time  after 
the  siege  of  Toulon  she  sent  to  Marseilles  cloth  and  linen 
to  be  shipped  for  Calvi.  Her  agent,  however,  wrote  to 
acquaint  her  that  the  English  maintained  the  blockade 
with  such  vigilance  that  he  was  unable  to  effect  the  trans- 
mission of  the  goods. 

(( Take  my  advice, w  added  he,  (<  and  dispose  of  your 
goods  either  at  Toulon,  at  Antibes,  or  at  Nice.  There 
are  troops  at  those  places,  two-thirds  of  whom,  to  my 
knowledge,  have  not  shirts  to  their  backs.  Your  cloth 
is  good  in  quality  and  reasonable  in  price;*  therefore  it 
will  sell  well.  You  know  General  Bonaparte ;  write  to  him, 
and  you  will,  I  make  no  doubt,  realize  fifty  per  cent  profit.  * 

My  aunt  saw  that  the  project  would  answer;  she 
therefore  addressed  a  letter  to  Bonaparte,  which  she  took 
care  to  write  in  Italian,  sprinkled  here  and  there  with 
a  few  Corsican  words,  with  the  view  of  reminding  him  of 
his  country  and  his  friends.  This  done,  she  sent  the  packet 
under  the  care  of  an  old  domestic  of  her  father,  who  had 
settled  in  the  environs  of  Marseilles. 

This  man  was  a  Corsican,  named  Bartolomeo  Peraldi. 
He  knew  all  the  Bonaparte  family,  and  of  course  Napo- 
leon among  the  rest.  The  General's  epaulettes  did  not 
intimidate  Peraldi,  and  having  delivered  to  him  the  let- 
ter from  the  Signora  Catalina,  he  seated  himself  with- 
out any  ceremony.  Though  it  was  early  in  the  morning, 
and  in  the  midst  of  winter,  Bonaparte  was  up  and 
dressed,  booted,  spurred,  and  ready  equipped  to  mount 
his  horse. 

*It  was  made  in  the  Chateau  of  Saint  Michel;  my  aunt  and  cousins 
spun  the  hemp  and  the  flax. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  101 

Bartolomeo,  who  surveyed  the  General  with  a  scrutiniz- 
ing eye,  remarked  that  Bonaparte's  countenance  under- 
went a  sensible  change  while  he  read  Madame  Saint 
Ange's  letter.  First  an  ironical  smile  played  over  his 
features,  then  his  forehead  lowered  into  a  frown,  and  sur- 
veying Bartolomeo,  he  said,  "What  is  all  this  non- 
sense ?J>  These  words  were  spoken  in  French,  and  in 
so  high  a  tone  that  it  seemed  he  wished  them  to  be 
heard  by  two  officers  who  were  in  the  next  apartment. 
Bartolomeo  perceived  Bonaparte's  design,  and  felt  a 
little  nettled.  He  replied  in  Italian,  though  he  could 
speak  French  very  well,  (<  Signer  Napoleon,  I  do  not 
understand  you.  You  know  that  in  Corsica  we  poor 
devils  speak  only  our  patois,  as  you  call  it  here.  Do  me 
then  the  favor  to  speak  to  me  in  our  dear  native 
tongue. B 

Bonaparte  surveyed  the  man  with  a  look  of  surprise. 
<(  I  left  Corsica  too  young  to  be  able  to  express  myself 
easily  in  Italian, M  said  Napoleon,  turning  on  his  heel; 
(<  besides,  I  see  no  necessity  to  speak  your  patois  as  you 
rightly  term  it,  for  Signora  Catalina  tells  me  in  her  let- 
ter that  you  have  been  living  for  fifteen  years  on  the 
coast  of  Provence.  *  (<  Si,  signor,  *  replied  Bartolomeo. 
(<  Surely,  then,  you  can  speak  French, M  said  Bonaparte, 
with  impatience.  <(  What  do  you  mean  by  this  insolence, 
fellow  ?» 

Peraldi  was  now  a  little  confused,  but  speedily  resum- 
ing his  confidence,  and  putting  on  his  red  and  blue 
bonnet,  which  he  had  taken  off  on  his  entrance,  he  ad- 
dressed Bonaparte  in  the  following  words:  "There  is  no 
need  for  all  this  jesting  and  calling  me  such  names,  M. 
Napoleoncino.  Tell  me  what  answer  I  am  to  take  to 
the  Signora  Kalli. )}  Bonaparte  darted  at  him  an  inquir- 
ing glance.  <(  Yes,  sir,  the  Signora  Catalina  and  the  Sig- 
nora Kalli  are  both  the  same.  In  short,  Madame  de 
Saint  Ange.  What  am  I  to  tell  her  ?w  *  Know  you  the 
contents  of  this  letter  ?})  demanded  the  General,  pointing 
to  my  aunt's  epistle,  which  lay  on  the  table  at  his  side. 
Bartolomeo  nodded  assent.  "Then,"  rejoined  Bonaparte 
angrily,  and  in  a  very  loud  tone,  "you  are  more  impu- 
dent than  I  thought  you.  Here,"  continued  he,  address- 
ing the  officers  in  the  next  room,  <(  this  fellow  has  brought 
me  a  packet  from  one  of  my  countrywomen,  who  wants 


loa  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

me  to  get  some  trumpery  cloth  sold  to  the  Republic.  It 
is  true  she  allows  me  a  commission.  Here,  pray  read 
the  letter,  citizens. M  So  saying,  he  took  my  aunt's  let- 
ter, to  which  there  was  attached  a  small  bit  of  paper, 
with  patterns  of  the  cloth  and  linen,  and  their  prices 
marked.  "You  see,"  continued  he,  <(  that  she  offers  me 
the  piece  marked  No.  2  as  a  bribe,  and  if  she  seduce 
me,  it  will  not  be,  as  you  perceive,  by  the  splendor  of 
the  present. }) 

The  two  young  officers  laughed  immoderately  when  they 
looked  on  the  pattern,  which  was  coarse  and  brown,  and 
scarcely  fit  for  soldiers'  shirts.  I  cannot  conceive  what 
my  poor  aunt  was  thinking  of  when  she  offered  such  a 
present  to  Napoleon.  *  Begone !  w  said  he  angrily  to  Bar- 
tolomeo;  <(it  is  lucky  for  you  that  you  are  only  the 
bearer  of  this  impudent  message!  Begone,  I  say!w 

(( I  am  going  —  I  am  going !  Good  God !  what  a  piece 
of  work !  And  all  for  what  ?  Because  good  Madame  de 
Saint  Ange  has  sent  him  a  few  ells  of  cloth  to  make 
him  half  a  dozen  shirts.  Eh!  I  have  seen  the  day,  and 
not  long  ago  either, w  continued  he,  all  at  once  changing 
his  language,  and  speaking  in  good  French  — <(  I  have 
seen  the  day  when  the  half  of  this  piece  of  cloth  would 
have  been  gladly  accepted  by  your  mother,  General  Bona- 
parte, to  make  shifts  for  your  sisters,  though  now  they 
have  the  finest  that  can  be  procured  in  Marseilles  —  and 
not  much  to  the  credit  of  one  of  them."  These  last 
words  he  muttered  between  his  teeth  and  then  with- 
drew. 

Napoleon  was  afterward  sorry  for  having  shown  so 
much  ill  humor  in  this  foolish  affair.  I  am  sure  he  never 
pardoned  Bartolomeo  Peraldi  for  the  lesson  he  gave  him 
before  two  officers,  who,  as  they  did  not  belong  to  his 
corps,  conceived  they  had  no  reason  to  keep  the  secret. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  103 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

The  Fair  of  Beaucaire  —  Atrocities  Committed  in  the  South  —  Mutilated 
Women  —  Short  Stay  at  Bordeaux  —  Decline  of  My  Father's  Health 
—  Return  to  Paris  —  Our  Hotel  Rue  de  la  Loi  —  Domiciliary  Visit  — 
My  Father's  Illness  —  Bonaparte's  Daily  Calls  on  My  Parents  —  Com- 
motions in  Paris — The  Convention  and  the  Sections  —  The  i3th 
Vendemiaire  —  Bonaparte  at  My  Mother's  on  the  I4th,  and  Their  Con- 
versation —  Death  of  My  Father. 

TARASCON  and  Beaucaire  are,  as  everybody  knows,  sepa- 
rated only  by  the  Rhone,  and  the  houses  of  the  two 
towns  line  either  bank  of  the  river.     On  seeing  those 
narrow  streets,  those  houses  with  high  Gothic  gables,  those 
windows  with  small  sashes  and  close  lattices,  the  irregular 
pavement  formed  of  large  flints  from  the  river,  you  fancy 
yourself  in  the  Middle  Ages;    for  there  is  nothing  about 
Beaucaire    that  reminds  you  of   the  age  in  which  we  are 
living. 

The  fair  of  Beaucaire  is  one  of  the  most  celebrated  in 
Europe ;  it  is  on  a  par  with  those  of  Frankfort  and  Leipsic. 
Its  originality  is  one  of  the  causes  that  draw  thither  so 
many  customers.  The  merchant  of  Bagdad  there  sets 
up  his  booth  beside  the  manufacturer  of  London;  the 
trader  of  Astracan  repairs  thither  to  deal  with  the  weaver 
of  Lyons ;  and  the  pearl  fisher  of  the  coast  of  Coromandel 
does  business  with  the  jeweler  of  Paris,  through  the 
medium  of  the  garlic  merchant  of  Marseilles.  This  may 
appear  extraordinary  at  first  sight,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
a  fact;  and  whoever  has  been  to  the  fair  of  Beaucaire 
will  recollect  the  immense  heaps  of  garlic.* 

Had  I  not  been  formerly  at  the  fair  of  Beaucaire  I 
could  not  say  that  I  knew  anything  about  it,  for  this 
year  was  the  first  since  the  Revolution  had  overthrown  all 
the  customs  of  this  kind ;  accordingly,  signs  of  it  were  to 
be  seen  in  the  singular  arrangement  of  the  shops  and 
goods.  From  the  fear  with  which  they  displayed  their 

*They  are  from  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high,  and  proportionably 
wide  at  the  base.  The  sum  put  into  circulation  for  this  commodity 
alone  is  estimated  at  upward  of  600,000  francs,  or  about  ^24,000; 
at  least,  so  I  have  been  assured  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town. 


104  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

stuffs  and  exhibited  their  precious  stones,  you  would 
have  imagined  that  they  dreaded  a  reaction,  and  were 
afraid  lest  their  merchandise  should  become  the  property 
of  others  without  the  formality  of  a  sale. 

The  South  was  actually  in  such  a  state  as  to  excite 
great  uneasiness  in  those  who  were  merely  traveling 
through  it,  and  who  could  not  hope  for  any  aid  from 
justice  and  the  laws,  since  both  were  then  absolutely 
powerless,  in  case  they  were  attacked  by  one  of  those 
unruly  parties  which  drenched  the  earth  with  blood  by 
their  quarrels  and  combats,  and  by  assassinations.  These 
parties  assumed  all  colors,  all  watchwords  were  alike  to 
them,  and  the  most  atrocious  cruelty,  the  most  refined 
horrors  —  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression — presided 
over  these  acts  of  cannibals,  under  pretext  of  avenging 
the  province  for  the  evils  inflicted  by  the  days  of  terror. 
They  fancied  that  with  blood  they  could  wipe  away  blood 
—  strange  baptism!  Women,  aged  men,  and  children  had 
been  thrown  from  the  tops  of  the  towers  of  the  castles 
of  Tarascon.  In  a  cavity  formed  by  the  rocks,  a  little 
below  the  town  of  Beaucaire,  we  saw  the  mutilated  bodies 
of  two  women,  whom  the  current  had  carried  into  that 
cavern.  There  they  remained,  and  the  wind  at  times 
wafted  from  the  spot  a  stench  that  made  one  sick  at 
heart. 

We  stopped  at  Beaucaire  no  longer  than  was  necessary 
to  see  the  singular  assemblage  which  the  fair  brought 
together.  On  this  occasion,  to  my  great  regret,  the 
tarasque  was  not  paraded  about  as  usual;  it  was  justly 
apprehended  that,  at  a  moment  when  popular  efferves- 
cence had  reached  the  highest  pitch,  this  procession 
might  be  attended  with  fatal  consequences.  The  precise 
origin  of  the  tarasque  is  not  known,  and  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  conducted  throws  no  light  upon  this  ceremony; 
still,  like  the  beast  of  the  Gevaudan,  it  must  have  had 
for  its  primary  cause  the  destruction  of  some  mischievous 
and  dangerous  animal. 

The  remembrance  of  it  is  thus  perpetuated  at  Beau- 
caire: an  immense  machine  of  wickerwork,  covered  with 
oilcloth,  and  held  together  by  large  strong  hoops,  is 
shaped  like  a  dragon  or  some  other  fantastic  beast;  this 
machine,  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  feet  long,  is  filled 
by  a  party  of  young  men  appointed  by  the  town,  when 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  105 

the  ceremony  of  the  tarasque  is  decided  upon.  It  was 
an  honor  to  be  admitted  into  this  number.  When  they 
were  in  this  strange  sort  of  vehicle  they  set  off,  and, 
darting  away  at  full  speed,  ran  about  the  town,  upsetting 
everything  before  them.  Woe  to  the  blind  and  the  slow- 
motioned  whom  they  encounter  —  they  are  sure  to  be 
thrown  down.  I  saw  this  exhibition  a  few  years  after- 
ward, and  I  must  confess  that  I  fancied  myself  among 
a  people  of  maniacs.  It  is  seldom  that  it  is  not  pro- 
ductive of  serious  accidents. 

On  leaving  Beaucaire  we  returned  to  Bordeaux.  The 
news  which  my  mother  received  from  my  father  gave  us 
so  much  uneasiness  as  to  prevent  our  compliance  with 
the  wishes  of  several  of  our  friends,  who  earnestly 
begged  us  to  go  to  Marseilles,  to  Avignon,  and  to  Aries. 
We  returned  by  the  same  road  we  had  come,  stopping 
only  at  Toulouse  and  Castlenaudary,  whence  we  pro- 
ceeded to  my  aunt  Saint  Ange.  We  found  her  still  a 
model  for  her  sex;  her  virtue  had  so  sincere  a  character 
that  you  were  forced  to  admire  it,  and  this  feeling  was 
experienced  by  all  who  approached  her.  My  mother,  as 
I  have  observed,  was  tenderly  attached  to  her;  but,  as 
she  herself  said  laughingly,  she  could  never  come  up  to 
her,  if  she  must,  for  that  purpose,  rise  at  four  in  the 
morning  and  "  eat  leg  of  goose  more  than  four  times  a 
year.  * 

<(  If  your  virtue  could  permit  you  to  rise  at  nine,  and 
not  eat  so  much  salt,  I  could  accommodate  myself  to  it 
well  enough,  cousin;  if  you  will  agree  to  that,  I  will 
come  hither  with  Loulou,  and  we  will  be  your  best  work- 
people. w 

"Altro,  altro,  figlia  mia*  replied  my  aunt  lifting  my 
mother  as  she  would  have  taken  up  a  feather.  <(  Let  us 
each  go  on  in  our  own  way.  * 

Dear  and  admirable  woman!  I  saw  her  subsequently, 
when  I  dwelt  in  a  palace.  "Are  you  happier  now  than 
when  you  went  with  your  cousins  to  strip  the  mulberry 
trees  when  you  were  a  girl  ?  w  asked  she,  on  seeing  me 
come  home  at  five  o'clock  to  dress  in  haste,  having 
scarcely  time  to  kiss  my  children  and  get  into  my  car- 
riage again  to  perform  what  were  called  duties.  I  had  a 
place  at  Court. 

On   leaving    Saint  Michel   de    Lunez    we    proceeded   to 


106  MEMOIRS    OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Bordeaux.  My  father  awaited  us  at  the  Hotel  Fumele, 
where  he  had  provided  apartments  for  us.  Prepared  as 
we  were  by  the  accounts  of  Laudois  and  M.  Emilhaud 
for  the  change  in  my  father,  we  were  shocked  on  seeing 
him.  His  paleness,  his  emaciation,  his  dim  eyes,  and 
his  tremulous  voice,  everything  about  him  indicated  a 
person  struck  by  death.  His  character  had  retained  that 
gloomy  and  melancholy  hue  which  tinged  it  at  Toulouse. 
The  solitude  in  which  he  had  persisted  in  living  had 
proved  fatal  to  him. 

Our  meeting  dispelled  for  a  few  hours  that  sullen 
reverie  in  which  he  was  always  plunged;  but  he  soon 
relapsed,  and  seemed  to  attach  no  importance  to  the 
flight  of  Salicetti;  but,  after  listening  to  our  narrative  of 
the  manner  in  which  we  had  saved  him,  he  smiled  with 
most  expressive  bitterness,  and  said  to  my  mother: 
<(  You  could  do  no  less  than  offer  him  everything;  it  was 
not  fit  that  he  should  accept,  still  less  ask  for  anything. M 

When  he  was  informed  of  the  conduct  of  Bonaparte, 
it  made  such  an  impression  upon  him  that  he  rose  from 
his  chair  and  paced  the  room  several  times  without 
uttering  a  word,  but  with  visible  emotion.  At  length  he 
returned  to  his  seat,  and  taking  my  mother  by  the  hand, 
(<  My  dear,w  said  he,  ((this  conduct  is  admirable. w  This 
admission  was  a  good  deal  for  my  father;  for  I  never 
knew  a  person  more  sparing  of  commendation.  <(  I  said 
the  same  thing  to  Salicetti, w  said  my  mother,  <(  and  what 
answer  do  you  think  he  gave  me  ?  ( Would  you,  then, 
have  had  him  deliver  me  up  ?  *  said  he  to  me  contemptu- 
ously. M  My  father  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

<(I  have  almost  always  seen,"  he  said,  <(  that  persons 
who  regard  noble  and  generous  conduct  in  others  as  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world,  were  themselves  the  most 
incapable  of  it." 

My  parents,  having  finished  all  their  business,  left 
Bordeaux  at  the  beginning  of  September,  1795,  and 
directed  their  course  toward  Paris  with  the  intention  of 
settling  there  again.  We  arrived  the  4th  of  the  same 
month,  and  alighted  at  the  Hotel  1'Autriche,  Rue  de  la 
Loi.  My  brother  hastened  to  join  us  as  soon  as  he  knew 
of  our  arrival.  He  was  deeply  grieved  on  perceiving  the 
state  of  my  poor  father,  who  was  so  fatigued  with  the 
journey  as  to  be  almost  dying  when  we  reached  Paris. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  107 

Our  physician,  M.  Duchannois,  was  sent  for;  he  required 
a  consultation.  Two  days  afterward  my  poor  father  was 
very  ill.  A  dangerous  fever  was  superadded  to  his  pre- 
vious sufferings  This  was  too  much. 

General  Bonaparte,  apprised  by  my  brother,  came  im- 
mediately to  see  us.  He  appeared  to  be  affected  by  the 
state  of  my  father,  who,  though  in  great  pain,  insisted 
on  seeing  him.  He  came  every  day,  and  in  the  morning 
he  sent  or  called  himself  to  inquire  how  he  had  passed 
the  night.  I  cannot  recollect  his  conduct  at  that  period 
without  sincere  gratitude.  He  informed  us  that  Paris 
was  in  such  a  state  as  must  necessarily  lead  to  a  convul- 
sion. 

The  Convention,  by  incessantly  repeating  to  the  people 
that  it  was  their  master,  had  taught  them  the  answer 
which  they  now  made  it  in  their  turn.  The  Sections 
were  in  almost  avowed  insurrection.  The  Section  Le- 
pelletier,  wherein  we  resided,  was  the  most  turbulent, 
and  in  fact  the  most  to  be  dreaded;  its  orators  did  not 
scruple  to  deliver  the  most  incendiary  speeches.  They 
asserted  that  the  power  of  the  assembled  people  was 
above  the  laws.  <(  Matters  are  getting  from  bad  to 
worse,"  said  Bonaparte;  "the  counter-revolution  will 
shortly  break  forth,  and  it  will  become  the  source  of 
fresh  disasters. w 

As  I  have  said,  Napoleon  came  every  day;  he  dined 
with  us,  and  passed  the  evening  in  the  drawing-room, 
chatting  in  a  low  tone  beside  the  easychair  of  my 
mother,  who,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  dozed  for  a  few 
moments  to  recruit  her  strength,  for  she  never  quitted 
my  father's  pillow.  I  recollect  that  one  evening,  my 
father  being  very  ill,  my  mother  was  weeping  and  in 
great  tribulation.  It  was  ten  o'clock.  At  that  time  it 
was  impossible  to  induce  any  of  the  servants  of  the  hotel 
to  go  out  after  nine. 

Bonaparte  said  nothing.  He  ran  downstairs  and  posted 
away  to  Duchannois,  whom  he  brought  back  with  him 
in  spite  of  his  objections.  The  weather  was  dread- 
ful; the  rain  poured  in  torrents.  Bonaparte  had  not 
been  able  to  meet  with  a  hackney-coach  to  go  to  M. 
Duchannois;  he  was  soaked  through.  Yes,  indeed,  at 
that  period  Bonaparte  had  a  heart  susceptible  of  attach- 
ment! 


io8  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Meanwhile  we  became  more  and  more  alarmed  every 
day  by  the  dangers  which  manifested  themselves  around 
us.  Paris  rang  with  the  tumult  of  the  factions,  which 
drew  the  sword,  and  each  hoisted  its  standard.  Against  the 
Convention,  then  the  only  real  authority,  were  arrayed 
the  Sections,  which  for  some  days  past  had  declared  war 
against  it.  Our  Section  in  particular  was  in  full  insur- 
rection. Paris  resembled  a  garrison  town.  The  Sections 
had  even  a  military  organization.  At  night  we  heard 
the  sentries  calling  to  and  answering  one  another,  as  in 
a  besieged  town;  the  strictest  search  was  made  for  arms 
and  ammunition ;  and  the  Section  was  furnished  with  lists 
of  all  the  men  capable  of  bearing  arms.  This  measure 
even  occasioned  a  distressing  incident  of  which  our  house 
was  the  scene. 

On  the  ad  of  October,  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  my 
father  was  dozing  a  little.  He  had  been  exhausted  by 
the  effects  of  an  emetic,  and  we  had  taken  the  greatest 
precautions  to  prevent  his  being  disturbed  by  any  noise. 
The  doors  were  all  at  once  thrown  open,  and  three  men, 
talking  loudly,  stamping  with  their  feet  to  make  some- 
one hear,  and  having  the  manners  of  porters,  entered 
the  apartment,  followed  rather  than  conducted  by  the 
master  of  the  hotel,  who  was  a  worthy,  excellent 
man. 

"What  a  deal  of  ceremony!  M  exclaimed  one  of  these 
wretches  with  horrid  oaths ;  <(  and  why  cannot  we  go  into 
this  room  ? J>  (<  Because  there  is  a  sick  person  in  it, w  said 
my  mother,  coming  forward  to  meet  him,  and  shutting 
the  double  door  of  my  father's  bedroom,  for  it  was  nec- 
essary to  spare  him  any  emotion  of  this  kind.  <(And 
who  is  this  sick  person  ?  w  inquired  the  same  man,  with 
an  inflection  of  voice  which  showed  that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve a  word  that  was  said.  <(  My  husband.  *  <(  Your  hus- 
band. And  why,*  said  he,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a 
stitched  book  which  he  carried  with  him,  <(has  not  your 
husband  given  in  his  name  to  the  Section  ?  He  is,  in 
fact,  inserted  in  the  list  of  arrivals  at  the  hotel,  but  we 
have  not  seen  him.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  con- 
duct, at  a  moment  when  the  nation  needs  all  its  defend- 
ers ? w  (<  And  pray  who  are  you, }>  asked  my  mother, 
<(  who  come  thus  to  annoy  my  family  ?  Do  you  belong 
to  the  Convention  ?  *  (<  I  have  probably  sufficient  author- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  109 

ity  to  talk  to  you  as  I  do;  but  answer  my  question,  and 
tell  me  why  your  husband  has  not  been  to  the  Section  ?  " 

My  mother  was  going  to  cut  him  short,  when  the 
master  of  the  hotel  made  her  a  sign  which  restrained 
her.  <(  My  husband  was  so  ill  on  his  arrival,"  replied 
she,  (<  that  he  took  to  his  bed  immediately,  as  the  master 
of  the  house  can  certify."  The  keeper  of  the  hotel  con- 
firmed my  mother's  assertion,  adding  some  civil  words. 
The  man  of  the  Section  then  looked  at  the  book. 

<(Why,  I  see,"  said  he,  "that  he  arrived  on  the  28th 
of  Fructidor  (September  15),  that  is  nineteen  days  ago. 
What  sort  of  illness  is  it  ?  I  should  have  had  time  to 
die  and  come  to  life  again  three  times  over;  but  that  is 
nothing  to  the  point;  where  is  this  citizen  Permon  ? 
I  must  see  him. "  (<  I  have  already  told  you  that  he  is 
ill,  citizen. "  (<  It  is  no  time  to  be  ill,  when  the  country 
itself  is  in  danger.  Come,  open  the  door. "  w  You  are 
either  a  madman  or  a  monster!  "  exclaimed  my  mother, 
placing  herself  before  the  door  of  my  father's  room. 
<(  Wretch !  stir  not  a  step  farther,  or  the  consequences  be 
upon  your  own  head." 

At  this  sharp  address  the  man  receded  a  few  steps: 
my  mother's  look  must  have  frightened  him  as  much  as 
he  had  alarmed  her.  While  he  hesitated,  my  mother 
told  me  in  Greek  to  go  immediately  through  the  other 
room  to  my  father,  and  endeavor  to  counteract  the  effect 
which  this  noise  must  have  had  upon  him.  I  found  my 
father  much  disturbed  at  the  tumult  which  he  had  heard ; 
the  very  cries  of  the  sentries,  after  dark,  had  already 
alarmed  him. 

The  nurse,  who  had  not  dared  to  leave  him,  told  me 
that  for  above  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  had  been  wanting 
to  know  what  this  noise  was  about.  I  told  him  that  it 
was  a  man  belonging  to  the  Section,  who  had  come  to 
set  him  down  in  the  lists  of  the  National  Guard,  but  that 
on  being  informed  of  his  illness  he  had  desisted.  I  was 
induced  to  say  so,  because  I  heard  no  further  alterca- 
tion. My  father  looked  steadfastly  at  me.  w  Is  that  quite 
true?  "  he  asked.  Knowing  that  a  true  account  of  this  scene 
would  be  liable  to  cause  a  fatal  crisis,  I  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  and  my  mother's  maid,  who  heard  the  whole, 
came  in  and  supported  me.  My  father  did  not  believe  it. 
I  heard  him  utter  the  words,  a  Wretches!  my  poor  coun- 


no         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

try!  w  At  length  he  asked  for  my  mother.  I  went  to 
fetch  her,  but  in  what  a  state  did  I  find  her! 

For  some  years  past  my  mother  had  been  subject  to 
nervous  paroxysms,  of  a  character  the  more  alarming  in- 
asmuch as  she  never  lost  her  consciousness,  but  continued 
in  a  dreadfully  convulsed  state  for  one  or  two  hours.  At 
such  times  she  disliked  to  have  anybody  about  her.  On 
reaching  the  drawing-room  I  found  her  in  tears,  and  in 
one  of  the  most  violent  spasms. 

General  Bonaparte  was  with  her,  endeavoring  to  soothe 
her;  he  would  not  call  anyone,  for  fear  of  alarming  my 
father.  I  hastened  to  bring  a  draught,  which  my  mother 
always  took  in  these  fits,  and  which  immediately  calmed 
her.  I  rubbed  her  hands  —  I  took  her  to  the  fire ;  and 
she  was  soon  able  to  go  to  my  father,  who  began  to  be 
extremely  uneasy  because  she  did  not  come. 

General  Bonaparte  told  me  that  on  his  arrival  he  found 
her  on  the  point  of  attacking  the  assistant  of  the  Section, 
to  prevent  his  entering  my  father's  chamber:  fortunately, 
there  was  a  double  door.  <(  I  should  be  glad  to  spare 
your  mother  such  scenes, M  said  he.  <(  I  have  not  much 
influence ;  nevertheless,  when  I  leave  you,  I  will  go  my- 
self to  the  Section ;  I  will  see  the  president,  if  possible, 
and  settle  the  business  at  once.  Paris  is  in  a  violent  con- 
vulsion, especially  since  this  morning.  It  is  necessary  to 
be  very  cautious  in  everything  one  does  and  in  all  one 
says.  Your  brother  must  not  go  out  any  more.  Attend 
strictly  to  this,  Mademoiselle  Laurette,  for  your  poor 
mother  is  in  a  sad  state." 

This  was  a  dreadful  night  for  my  father.  The  disease 
made  rapid  progress,  increased  as  it  was  by  all  that  he 
heard,  and  that  we  could  not  keep  from  his  knowledge. 
The  next  morning  the  drums  were  beat  in  the  Section 
Lepelletier:  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  deceive  him  in 
regard  to  that  sound,  with  which  he  was  but  too  well 
acquainted;  and  when  M.  Duchannois  called  to  see  him, 
he  no  longer  concealed  from  us  the  danger  of  his  situ- 
ation. 

My  poor  father  perceived  it  before  M.  Duchannois  had 
uttered  a  word:  no  doubt  he  felt  it  too.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  he  desired  to  see  M.  Brunetiere,  and  M.  Renaudot, 
his  notary.  They  were  sent  for.  The  streets  were 
already  very  unsafe,  and  those  gentlemen  were  not  to  be 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  in 

found.  M.  Brunetiere  was  not  in  Paris,  and  M.  Renaudot 
was  from  home.  The  tumult  became  very  great  at  dusk : 
the  theaters  were  nevertheless  open.  Indeed,  we  are  a 
nation  of  lunatics! 

On  the  morning  of  the  i2th,  Bonaparte,  who  had  called 
according  to  custom,  appeared  to  be  lost  in  thought:  he 
went  out,  came  back,  went  out  again,  and  again  returned 
when  we  were  at  our  dessert.  I  recollect  that  he  ate  a 
bunch  of  grapes,  and  took  a  large  cup  of  coffee.  w  I 
breakfasted  very  late,"  said  he,  (<at  -  — .*  They  talked 
politics  there  till  I  was  quite  tired  of  the  subject.  I  will 
try  to  learn  the  news,  and  if  I  hear  anything  interesting 
I  will  come  and  tell  you. w 

We  did  not  see  him  again.  The  night  was  stormy, 
especially  in  our  Section.  The  whole  Rue  de  la  Loi  was 
studded  with  bayonets.  General  d'Agneau,  who  com- 
manded the  Sections,  had  called  to  see  someone  in  the 
next  house  to  ours,  and  one  of  the  officers  who  were  with 
him  had  expressed  the  most  hostile  disposition.  Barri- 
cades were  already  erected  in  our  street,  but  some  officers 
of  the  National  Guard  ordered  them  to  be  removed. 

The  National  Guard  was  the  principal  force  of  the 
Sections.  Its  grenadiers  and  its  chasseurs,  shopkeepers, 
and  a  few  private  individuals  belonging  to  the  party, 
these  were  the  elements  opposed  to  the  troops  of  the 
line  commanded  by  experienced  generals  such  as  Brune, 
Berruyer,  Montchoisy,  Verdier,  and  lastly  Bonaparte. 

On  the  morning  of  the  i3th  my  father  was  very  ill. 
It  was  impossible  to  expect  M.  Duchannois ;  our  gratitude 
was  the  more  ardent  when  we  saw  him  arrive.  He 
stayed  nearly  an  hour  with  us:  in  anticipation  of  what 
might  happen,  he  left  directions  as  to  what  was  to  be 
done  in  case  he  should  be  out  of  the  way  when  wanted; 
but  he  did  not  conceal  from  my  brother  and  myself  the 
effect  which  the  events  in  preparation  were  likely  to  have 
on  our  unfortunate  father. 

(<  A  few  days  ago, B  said  he,  (<  I  began  to  have  fresh 
hopes;  but  the  affair  of  the  day  before  yesterday,  of 
which  he  was  informed  by  his  nurse"  (the  silly  creature 
had  related  it  to  him  after  my  departure,  for  the  purpose 
of  diverting  his  mind),  <(  has  brought  on  the  fever  again 
with  redoubled  violence.  I  dare  not  indulge  the  hope 

*  I  believe  it  was  at  Bourrienne's,  but  I  am  not  sure. 


ii2  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

that  he  will  be  insensible  to  the  commotion  about  to 
take  place. w 

For  some  hours  we  flattered  ourselves  that  matters 
would  be  adjusted  between  the  Convention  and  the 
rebels;  but  about  half -past  four  the  firing  of  cannon 
began.  Scarcely  was  the  first  discharge  heard  before  it 
was  answered  from  all  quarters.  The  effect  on  my  poor 
father  was  terrible  and  immediate.  He  gave  a  piercing 
shriek,  called  for  assistance,  and  was  seized  with  the 
most  violent  delirium. 

To  no  purpose  did  we  administer  the  draughts  prescribed 
for  him  by  M.  Duchannois.  All  the  scenes  of  the  Rev- 
olution passed  in  review  before  him,  and  every  discharge 
that  he  heard  was  a  blow  as  if  it  struck  him  personally. 
What  a  day!  what  an  evening!  what  a  night!  Every 
pane  of  glass  was  broken  to  pieces.  Toward  evening 
the  Section  fell  back  upon  our  quarter:  the  fighting  was 
continued  almost  under  our  windows;  but  when  it  had 
reached  Saint  Roch,  and  particularly  the  Theatre  de  la 
Re"publique,  we  imagined  that  the  house  was  tumbling 
about  our  ears. 

My  father  was  in  the  agonies  of  death :  he  cried  aloud ; 
he  wept.  Never  —  no,  never  —  shall  I  suffer  what  I  did 
during  that  terrible  night!  When  we  heard  barricades 
forming  in  the  Rue  de  la  Loi,  we  gave  ourselves  up  for 
lost.  Patrols  passed  to  and  fro  in  all  directions:  they 
belonged  to  all  parties;  for,  in  truth,  on  that  disastrous 
day  there  were  more  than  two. 

We  were  forced  to  tell  my  father  all.  We  had  at  first 
thought  of  passing  it  off  as  a  festival,  as  salutes  of  rejoic- 
ing. As  he  was  exceedingly  debilitated  by  his  long  and 
painful  illness,  we  should  perhaps  have  made  him  believe 
this,  but  for  the  indiscretion  of  his  nurse;  in  short,  he 
knew  all.  I  loved  my  father  with  extreme  affection;  I 
adored  my  mother.  I  saw  one  expiring  from  the 
effect  of  the  thunders  of  the  cannon;  while  the  other, 
extended  on  the  foot  of  his  deathbed,  seemed  ready  to 
follow  him. 

Next  day  tranquillity  was  restored,  we  were  told,  in 
Paris.  It  was  then  that  we  could  perceive  the  havoc 
which  a  few  hours  had  made  in  the  condition  of  my 
father.  M.  Duchannois  came  in  the  morning.  My  father 
wished  to  speak  to  him  alone.  He  then  desired  my  mother 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  113 

to  be  sent  for.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  violent  scream.  I  ran 
to  my  father's  chamber:  my  mother  was  in  one  of  her 
most  dreadful  nervous  paroxysms.  She  motioned  to  me 
to  call  Josephine,  her  maid,  to  take  her  away.  Her  face, 
always  so  beautiful,  was  quite  distorted.  Till  that  day  she 
had  flattered  herself:  her  hopes  had  just  been  utterly 
destroyed. 

I  can  scarcely  give  any  account  of  the  i4th.  My  father's 
state,  which  hourly  grew  worse,  left  me  no  other  faculty 
than  that  of  suffering  and  trying  to  impart  a  little  forti- 
tude to  my  poor  mother.  Toward  evening  Bonaparte 
came  for  a  moment;  he  found  me  in  tears.  When  he 
learned  the  cause  his  cheerful  and  open  countenance 
suddenly  changed. 

<(  I  should  like  to  see  Madame  Permon, n  said  he.  I  was 
going  to  fetch  my  mother,  who  entered  at  that  moment; 
she  knew  no  more  than  I  how  important  a  part  Bona- 
parte had  played  on  that  great  day.  <(  Oh ! J)  said  my 
mother,  weeping,  K  they  have  killed  him.  You,  Napo- 
leon, can  feel  for  my  distress !  Do  you  recollect  that,  on 
the  first  of  Prairial,  when  you  came  to  sup  with  me,  you 
told  me  that  you  had  just  prevented  Barras  from  bom- 
barding Paris  ?  Do  you  recollect  it  ?  For  my  part,  *  con- 
tinued she,  <(  I  have  not  forgotten  it.w 

I  never  knew  what  effect  this  address  had  on  Bona- 
parte; many  persons  have  alleged  that  he  always  re- 
gretted that  day.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  was  exceedingly 
kind  to  my  mother  in  these  moments  of  affliction,  though 
himself  in  circumstances  that  could  not  but  outweigh  all 
other  interests:  he  was  like  a  son,  like  a  brother. 

My  poor  father  languished  for  two  more  days.  We  lost 
him  on  the  ryth  of  Vende'miaire.  *  To  me  he  was  more 
than  a  father:  he  was  a  friend,  such  as  friendship  very 
rarely  furnishes  —  indulgent  without  weakness.  My 
brother  was  overwhelmed  with  grief.  He,  too,  had  lost 
a  friend  still  young  in  my  father.  He  had  been  edu- 
cated by  him,  and  owed  him  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  for 
having  been  so  brought  up.  As  for  my  mother,  she  was 
long  inconsolable,  in  the  real  signification  of  the  word ; 
she  had  that  affection  for  my  father  which  causes  one  to 
mourn  sincerely  the  loss  of  the  person  who  has  been  the 
object  of  it. 

*8th  of  October,  1795. 


ii4  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER     XVII. 

My  Mother's  House  in  the  Chaussee  d'Antin  —  Great  Change  in  the  Situ- 
ation of  Bonaparte  —  Ammunition  Bread  —  Dreadful  Dearth  —  Char- 
ities Bestowed  by  Bonaparte  —  The  Dead  Child,  and  the  Slater's 
Widow  —  Comparison  between  Former  Fashions  and  Those  of  the 
Republic. 

MY  BROTHER,  as  soon  as  he  was  certain  of  our  defini- 
tive return  to  Paris,  had  set  about  seeking  a  house 
where  we  could  all  live  together,  and  where  we 
might  be  able  to  accommodate  my  sister  when  she  should 
come  to  Paris.  All  these  plans  were  destined  to  be 
cruelly  frustrated.  As  soon  as  our  new  habitation  was 
ready  my  mother  hastened  to  leave  the  Hotel  de 
1'Autriche,  to  escape  the  painful  recollections  which  are 
inseparable  from  a  residence  in  a  place  where  a  distress- 
ing event  has  recently  occurred.  The  house  to  which  we 
removed  was  situated  in  the  Chaussee  d'Antin;  it  was 
the  small  hotel,  or  rather  the  small  house  (everybody 
knows  that  all  the  houses  in  this  part  of  the  Chaussee 
d'Antin  were  nothing  more,  anterior  to  the  Revolution) 
of  M.  de  Varnachan,  formerly  a  farmer-general  of  taxes; 
it  was  commodious,  and  its  small  appearance  was  a  rec- 
ommendation at  a  time  when  all  were  striving  to  make 
as  little  show  as  possible,  and  to  conceal  their  wealth. 

We  now  learned  with  astonishment  the  good  fortune 
which  had  befallen  Bonaparte.  My  mother,  absorbed  by 
her  grief,  had  not  a  thought  to  bestow  on  any  singularity 
which  the  conduct  of  the  young  General  might  present 
when  compared  with  his  own  words;  she  even  saw  him 
again  without  having  the  inclination  to  remind  him  of  it. 
For  the  rest,  a  great  change  had  taken  place  in  Bona- 
parte, and  the  change  in  regard  to  attention  to  his  person 
was  not  the  least  remarkable.  One  of  the  things  to 
which  my  mother  had  a  particular  dislike  was  the  smell 
of  wet  dirty  boots  put  to  the  fire  to  dry;  to  her  this 
smell  was  so  unpleasant  that  she  frequently  left  the  room, 
and  did  not  return  till  the  boots  had  been  thoroughly 
dried  and  removed  from  the  fire;  but  this  was  followed 


DUCHESS   OF   ABR ANTES  115 

by  another,  namely,  the  creaking  noise  produced  by  the 
dry  sole,  to  which  I  also  have  a  great  antipathy. 

In  those  disastrous  times,  when  it  was  a  matter  of 
luxury  to  ride  in  a  hackney-coach,  it  may  easily  be  con- 
ceived that  those  who  had  but  sufficient  to  pay  the  price 
of  a  dinner  did  not  take  great  delight  in  splashing  others, 
retained  sufficient  philosophy  to  soil  their  shoes  or  boots 
by  walking.  My  mother  admitted  the  justice  of  the 
remark,  but  she  nevertheless  held  her  perfumed  handker- 
chief to  her  nose  whenever  Bonaparte  placed  his  little 
feet  upon  the  fender.  He  at  length  perceived  this,  and, 
being  at  that  time  exceedingly  afraid  of  displeasing  my 
mother,  he  would  prevail  upon  our  maid  to  brush  his 
boots  before  he  came  in.  These  trifling  details,  which 
are  nothing  in  themselves,  become  interesting  when  we 
recollect  the  man  to  whom  they  relate. 

After  the  i3th  of  Vende'miaire  (4th  of  October)  muddy 
boots  were  out  of  the  question.  Bonaparte  never  went 
out  but  in  a  handsome  carriage,  and  he  lived  in  a  very 
respectable  house,  Rue  des  Capucines.  In  short,  he  had 
become  a  necessary  and  important  personage,  and  all  as 
if  by  magic;  he  came  every  day  to  see  us,  with  the 
same  kindness  and  the  same  familiarity;  sometimes,  but 
very  rarely,  he  brought  along  with  him  one  of  his  aids- 
de-camp,  either  Junot  or  Muiron;  at  other  times  his 
uncle  Fesch,  a  man  of  the  mildest  manners  and  most 
even  temper. 

One  of  the  persons  who  came  very  often  with  Bona- 
parte was  named  Chauvet.  I  do  not  recollect  precisely 
what  he  was,  but  this  I  know,  that  Bonaparte  was  very 
fond  of  him,  and  that  he  was  a  man  of  gentle  disposition 
and  very  ordinary  conversation. 

At  this  period  famine  prevailed  in  Paris  in  a  greater 
degree  than  anywhere  else:  there  was  a  real  want  of 
bread,  and  other  kinds  of  provisions  began  no  longer  to 
find  their  way  to  the  city.  This  was  the  effect  of  a  plan 
of  insurrection.  The  distress  was  dreadful.  The  dis- 
credit of  the  assignats  increased  with  the  general  misery. 
Laboring  people  ceased  to  work,  and  died  in  their  gar- 
rets, or  went  and  joined  the  bands  of  robbers  and  vaga- 
bonds which  began  to  collect  in  the  provinces.  In  Paris 
itself  we  were  not  free  from  them. 

Bonaparte  was  at  that  time  of  great   assistance    to    us. 


ii6  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

We  had  white  bread  for  our  own  consumption ;  but  our  serv- 
ants had  only  that  of  the  Section,  and  this  was  unwhole- 
some and  barely  eatable.  Bonaparte  sent  us  daily  some 
ammunition  bread,  which  we  very  often  ate  with  great 
pleasure.  I  know  not  what  Madame  de  Bourrienne  means 
when  she  talks  of  a  circumstance  connected  with  a  loaf 
of  this  sort,  which  happened  at  her  house ;  but  this  I  can 
affirm,  because  Bonaparte  thought  fit  to  associate  me 
with  himself  in  the  good  which  he  did,  that  at  the 
period  in  question  he  saved  more  than  a  hundred  families 
from  perishing. 

He  caused  wood  and  bread  to  be  distributed  among 
them  at  their  own  homes :  this  his  situation  enabled  him  to 
do.  I  have  been  charged  by  him  to  give  these  bounties 
to  more  than  ten  unfortunate  families  who  were  starv- 
ing. Most  of  them  lived  in  the  Rue  Saint  Nicolas,  very 
near  our  house.  That  street  was  then  inhabited  only  by 
the  most  indigent  people :  whoever  has  not  ascended  to 
their  garrets  can  have  no  conception  of  real  wretched- 
ness. 

One  day,  when  Bonaparte  came  to  dine  with  my  mother, 
he  was  stopped  on  alighting  from  his  carriage  by  a  woman 
who  held  a  dead  infant  in  her  arms.  It  was  the  young- 
est of  her  six  children.  Her  husband,  a  slater  by  trade, 
had  been  accidentally  killed,  three  months  before,  while  at 
work  on  the  roof  of  the  Tuileries.  Nearly  two  months'  wages 
were  due  to  him.  His  widow  could  not  obtain  payment. 
Her  poor  little  infant  had  just  expired  from  want  of 
nourishment;  it  was  not  yet  cold.  She  saw  a  man  whose 
dress  was  covered  with  gold,  alight  at  our  door  almost 
every  day,  and  came  to  ask  him  for  bread,  (<that  her 
other  children  might  not  share  the  fate  of  the  youngest, w 
she  said ;  ((  and  if  nobody  will  give  me  anything,  I  must 
even  take  them  all  five  and  drown  myself  with  them." 

This  was  not  an  unmeaning  expression,  for  suicides 
were  then  daily  occurrences;  indeed,  nothing  was 
talked  of  but  tragic  deaths.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Bona- 
parte that  day  came  into  my  mother's  with  a  look  of 
sadness,  which  he  retained  all  dinner  time.  He  had, 
for  the  moment,  given  a  few  assignats  to  the  unhappy 
woman.  After  we  had  left  the  table  he  begged  my 
mother  to  cause  some  inquiry  to  be  made  concerning 
her.  I  undertook  the  office.  All  she  said  was  true ;  and, 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  117 

moreover,  this  poor  mother  was  an  honest  and  virtuous 
woman. 

Bonaparte,  in  the  first  place,  obtained  payment  of  the 
arrears  due  to  her  husband,  and  a  little  pension  was 
afterward  granted  to  her.  Her  name  was  Marianne 
Huve.  She  lived  for  a  long  time  near  our  house.  She 
had  four  girls,  whom  she  brought  up  like  a  good  mother. 
Two  of  them  frequently  came  to  do  needlework  for  us: 
they  always  expressed  the  most  profound  gratitude 
to  THE  GENERAL,  as  they  called  him.  If  I  have  been 
so  particular  in  this  story,  which  is  of  little  importance 
in  itself,  it  is  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  this  fact  in 
opposition  to  that  recorded  by  Madame  Bourrienne,  with 
reference  to  a  dinner  at  her  house,  at  which  Bonaparte 
and  his  brother  Louis  were  present. 

It  was  some  time  before  we  were  quite  settled.  My 
mother  was  quiet  enough  when  she  was  in  furnished 
lodgings,  and  a  mere  bird  of  passage,  as  it  were,  in  a 
town;  but  when  a  permanent  establishment  was  in  ques- 
tion she  became  of  all  women  the  most  difficult  to 
please.  She  had  formed  a  plan  for  furnishing  her  house 
half  Asiatic,  half  French,  which  was  the  most  delightful 
of  inventions.  She  had  already  written  to  Leghorn  for 
the  carpets. 

Notwithstanding  my  youth,  my  brother  talked  to  me 
on  a  subject  which  could  no  longer  be  put  off.  This 
was  our  situation:  it  was  frightful.  The  seals  were  re- 
moved; my  father's  papers  were  examined;  nothing  was 
found.  My  father  had  left  absolutely  no  money. 

w  Left  nothing !  *  said  I  to  my  brother ;  «  and  the 
money  carried  to  England  ?  w  w  There  is  no  memorandum 
of  it,  no  trace  whatever.  My  father,  since  he  came  to 
Bordeaux,  always  paid  for  everything;  he  had  money 
for  current  expenses.  On  removing  to  Paris  he  did  not 
say  a  word  to  Brunetiere.  My  mother,  as  you  well  know, 
never  talked  to  him  about  money  matters.  As  for  me, 
if  he  said  nothing  about  them  in  England,  he  was  not 
more  communicative  here."  My  mother  was  my  first 
thought.  <(  Good  God !  Albert, w  said  I,  (<  she  will  not  sur- 
vive it:  this  state  of  destitution  will  put  an  end  to  her 
life!8 

My  brother  and  I  then  agreed  to  conceal  from  my 
mother,  at  least  for  some  time,  the  dreadful  state  of  our 


u8  MEMOIRS    OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

affairs.  We  had  still  something  in  the  Funds  and  some 
ready  money.  My  brother  had  also  some  of  his  own, 
given  to  him  by  my  father,  that  he  might  make  the  most 
of  it.  At  that  period  everybody  tried  this  method 
of  making  money.  <(  Bonaparte  is  attached  to  us," 
said  my  brother;  (<he  will  get  me  an  appointment. 
All  that  I  earn  shall  be  for  my  mother  and  you ;  but  for 
the  present  let  us  conceal  from  her  what  has  happened; 
she  has  no  need  of  new  afflictions. M 

When  the  political  troubles  broke  out,  and  my  father 
proposed  to  place  his  fortune  beyond  the  reach  of  danger, 
he  spoke  to  my  mother,  in  confidence,  on  the  subject. 
My  mother  received  the  communication  in  like  manner, 
without  comprehending  anything  of  the  matter;  only 
at  my  father's  death  she  made  sure  that,  after  the 
payment  of  my  sister's  dowry,  we  should  have  a  decent 
fortune  left;  but  as  she  had  brought  no  dowry  herself, 
she  did  not  expect  any  share  in  the  division  of  the  prop- 
erty. ((  My  children, w  said  she  to  us,  <(  I  had  nothing 
when  your  father  married  me ;  to  him  I  owe  everything ; 
of  course,  all  is  yours.  Only, w  added  she,  with  her  win- 
ning smile,  holding  out  her  arms  to  us,  (<  you  will  give 
me  a  place  by  your  fireside  ? }> 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  complete  my  mother's  estab- 
lishment. She  would  not  have  thought  herself  properly 
lodged  had  she  not  possessed  a  number  of  accessories 
unknown  at  the  present  day,  notwithstanding  the  cata- 
logue of  gewgaws  which  people  agree  to  call  curiosities. 
Removed  to  France  at  the  conclusion  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV.,  my  mother  had  begun  a  new  existence 
amid  numberless  luxuries,  habits  which  had  become 
for  her  wants  of  a  second  nature.  Never  had  the  French 
been  more  inventive  than  at  that  period;  never  had  all 
sorts  of  gratifications  of  sense  been  so  multiplied,  in 
order  to  surround  woman  with  their  refined  elegance. 
We  fancy  that  we  have  made  improvements  in  this  way, 
and  we  are  egregiously  mistaken:  a  lady  who  had  an 
income  of  forty  thousand  livres  fifty  years  ago  lived 
better  than  one  at  the  present  day  who  expends  two 
hundred  thousand.  All  that  she  then  had  about  her  can- 
not be  enumerated:  there  was  a  profusion  of  charming 
trifles,  the  very  uses  of  which  are  lost,  and  for  which  we 
have  no  substitutes. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  119 

The  establishment  of  a  lady  of  fashion  never  com- 
prised fewer  than  two  femmes  de  chambre,  and  almost  al- 
ways a  valet  de  chambre  for  indoor  service.  A  bath  was 
indispensable,  for  an  elegant  woman  did  not  pass  two 
days  without  bathing-;  and  then  there  were  perfumes  in 
abundance;  the  finest  cambrics,  the  most  costly  laces  for 
every  season  were  on  the  toilet  table,  or  in  the  amber- 
scented  baskets  in  which  the  articles  requisite  for  the 
toilet  of  a  wealthy  female  were  in  the  first  instance  de- 
posited. This  folly  extended  to  everything. 

The  furnishing  also  constituted  a  material  item  in  the 
expenses  of  a  woman.  The  apartments  were  expected 
to  be  very  cool,  very  fragrant  with  flowers  in  summer, 
and  very  warm  in  winter.  As  soon  as  the  cold  weather 
set  in,  Aubusson  carpets,  several  inches  thick,  were  laid 
down.  A  lady,  on  retiring  at  night  to  her  bedchamber, 
found  it  warmed  by  a  large  fire;  long  draperies  fell 
before  the  double  windows;  and  the  bed,  surrounded  by 
thick  and  ample  curtains,  was  an  asylum  where  she 
might  prolong  her  night  without  danger  of  having  her 
slumbers  broken  by  the  return  of  day. 

When  my  mother  was  settled  in  her  new  habitation 
she  took  delight  in  arranging  every  object,  and  in  fur- 
nishing her  bedroom  and  drawing-room  according  to  her 
own  fancy.  In  vain  did  her  upholsterer  recommend 
kerseymere  and  muslin;  she  told  him  that  she  did  not 
wish  to  look  like  the  wife  of  a  contractor  to  the  Repub- 
lic, who  made  up  into  furniture  the  bad  cloth  which  he 
had  not  been  able  to  dispose  of. 

I  recollect  that  long  after  this  time  much  was  said  in 
Paris  of  a  house  which  Bertaud,  I  believe,  had  just  fitted 
up.  It  was,  we  were  told,  the  wonder  of  wonders. 
People  went  to  see  it  without  being  known  to  the  owner 
of  the  house.  My  mother,  who  was  annoyed  by  this, 
one  day  told  Admiral  Magon,  one  of  our  intimate  friends, 
that  she  was  determined  to  go  and  see  the  house  in 
question.  The  owner  was  his  banker;  the  thing,  there- 
fore, was  easy.  We  chose  a  day  when  the  beautiful 
mistress  was  absent,  and  the  Admiral  escorted  us.  I 
was  lost  in  astonishment;  and  I  must  confess  that  I 
admired  both  the  taste  and  arrangement  of  all  I  saw; 
but  my  mother  had  no  mercy.  She  looked  round  the 
apartment  for  those  things  which  constitute  the  charm 


120  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

of  our  dwellings,  and  which  are  strewn  in  orderly  dis- 
order over  the  furniture  of  the  room.  The  value  of 
these  objects  ought  to  make  you  forgive  their  presence. 
Thus  a  Chinese  basket  of  ivory  will  contain  female  work. 
Scissors  and  thimble  will  lie  beside  it.  These  must  be 
of  gold,  surrounded  with  enamel  or  fine  pearls.  <(  Rich 
smelling  bottles,  beautiful  n/cessairfs,  ought  all  to  be 
here,"  said  my  mother.  (<  Of  course  this  room  is  never 
inhabited. w 

When  we  had  reached  home,  I  was  astonished  that,  on 
finding  myself  in  our  own  convenient  habitation,  I  did 
not  regret  the  fairy  palace  which  I  had  just  seen.  As 
for  my  mother,  it  was  never  possible  to  make  her  con- 
fess that  this  house  was  an  admirable  thing.  (<  It  is  a 
pretty  knickknack,  and  that  is  all,*  she  would  reply. 
But  when  she  was  told  what  it  had  cost,  she  was  ready 
to  jump  out  of  her  easy-chair. 

<(  I  would  fit  up  twenty  houses  like  that,  *  cried  she, 
w  and  you  should  see  what  a  difference  there  would  be. 
What  matters  it  to  luxury,  ornament,  and  convenience, 
to  all  those  things  indispensable  in  the  furnishing  and 
fitting-up  of  a  habitation,  that  the  furniture  of  a  salon, 
in  which  you  never  live,  should  be  of  rosewood  or 
mahogany?  Would  it  not  be  better  if  the  money  which 
those  armchairs  have  cost  had  been  employed  in  giving 
them  a  richer  cover  and  a  new  shape,  since  they  must 
have  one,  and  in  rendering  them  more  commodious,  and 
not  likely  to  break  one's  arms  ? w 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  121 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

My  Mother's  Mourning  —  Decline  of  Her  Health  —  A  Box  at  the 
Feydeau  Prescribed  by  the  Physician  —  Bonaparte  Accompanies  My 
Mother  to  the  Play  —  Singular  Overtures  of  Bonaparte  to  My 
Mother  —  He  Proposes  Three  Marriages  between  the  Two  Fami- 
lies—  My  Mother  Refuses  to  Marry  Bonaparte  —  Stephanopoli,  a 
Relative  of  My  Mother's — Sharp  Altercation  between  My  Mother 
and  Bonaparte  —  Definitive  Rupture  —  Marriage  of  Bonaparte  — 
He  Is  Appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Army  of  Italy. 

MY  MOTHER'S  mourning  was  deep:  etiquette  required 
absolute  solitude,  which  preyed  daily  more  and 
more  upon  her  naturally  delicate  health.  M. 
Duchannois  told  her  one  day  that,  in  the  circumstances 
in  which  she  was  placed,  decorum  might  require  her  not 
to  go  into  company,  but  that  she  ought  to  take  some 
amusement.  In  consequence,  he  recommended  her  to 
hire  a  box  at  one  of  the  theaters,  and  to  go  to  it  in  the 
most  profound  incognito ;  she  might  listen  to  good  music, 
surrounded  by  friends ;  and  their  attentions,  and  her  soul 
wrapped  in  a  soft  lethargy,  would  cause  her  to  forget  her 
griefs  for  a  few  hours  at  least.  My  mother  accordingly 
took  a  box  at  the  Feydeau,  where  she  passed  an  hour 
or  two  every  evening.  Bonaparte  never  missed  coming 
thither.  He  was  not  fond  of  French  music,  and,  to  con- 
fess the  truth,  the  notes  of  Madame  Scio  and  Gaveaux- 
Bouche*  were  not  calculated  to  give  him  a  liking  for  it. 
About  this  time  Bonaparte  had  a  strange  conference 
with  my  mother,  so  strange,  indeed,  that  even  to  this 
day  I  cannot  suppress  a  smile  whenever  I  think  of  it. 
One  day  Bonaparte  told  my  mother  that  he  had  to  pro- 
pose a  marriage  which  should  unite  the  two  families. 
<(It  is,"  added  he,  (< between  Paulette  and  Permon.  Per- 
mon  has  some  fortune. w  (It  was  not  then  known  that 
we  had  found  nothing  at  my  father's  death.)  (<  My  sister 
has  nothing,  but  I  am  in  a  condition  to  obtain  nmch  for 
those  belonging  to  me,  and  I  can  get  a  good  place  for 
her  husband.  This  alliance  would  make  me  happy. 
You  know  what  a  pretty  girl  my  sister  is.  My  mother 

*  He  had  a  very  wide  mouth,  and  was  so  called  to  distinguish  him 
from  Gavaudan. 


122  MEMOIRS    OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

is  your  friend.  Come,  say  'Yes,'  and  the  business  shall 
be  settled. w  My  mother  said  neither  yes  nor  no;  she 
replied  that  my  brother  was  of  age,  that  she  should  not 
influence  him  either  one  way  or  the  other,  and  that  all 
depended  on  his  own  will. 

Bonaparte  confessed  that  Permon  was  so  remarkable  a 
young  man  that,  though  only  twenty-five,  he  had 
maturity  and  abilities  which  would  qualify  him  for  public 
employments.  Thus  far  what  General  Bonaparte  said 
was  natural  and  suitable.  It  related  to  a  match  between 
a  young  female  of  sixteen  and  a  young  man  of  twenty- 
five.  This  young  man  was  supposed  to  possess  an  income 
of  ten  thousand  livres;  he  had  an  agreeable  person; 
painted  like  Vernet,  whose  pupil  he  was ;  played  on  the 
harp  much  better  than  Krumpholtz,  his  master;  spoke 
English,  Italian,  and  modern  Greek,  as  well  as  French; 
wrote  verses  like  an  angel;  transacted  business  with  a 
facility  and  intelligence  which  distinguished  him  among 
those  who  were  connected  with  him  in  the  Army  of  the 
South.  Such  was  the  man  whom  Bonaparte  demanded 
for  his  sister,  a  beautiful  creature,  it  is  true,  and  a  good 
girl,  but  nothing  more. 

To  all  that  I  have  just  said  of  my  brother  might  be 
added  that  he  was  the  best  of  sons,  exemplary  in  his 
duties  as  a  member  of  society,  as  well  as  in  those  of  a 
friend,  a  brother,  and  a  kinsman.  I  shall  perhaps  be 
charged  with  letting  my  heart  run  away  with  my  pen, 
and  listening  too  much  to  its  suggestions.  No,  I  am  not 
swayed  by  prejudice;  what  I  say  of  my  brother  is  noth- 
ing but  the  strictest  truth.  There  are  still  left  many  of 
his  friends,  of  his  relatives,  to  whom  he  was  a  great 
benefactor;  let  them  answer  the  appeal  of  such  as  have 
not  known  him,  and  who  wish  to  learn  whether  my 
eulogy  of  him  is  true ;  and  let  them  do  it  without  being 
restrained  by  that  silly  and  ridiculous  vanity  which  fre- 
quently prevents  people  from  acknowledging,  <c  There  is 
the  man  to  whom  I  owe  everything!  w 

Such,  then,  was  my  brother  when  Bonaparte  proposed 
to  my  mother  a  match  between  him  and  Mademoiselle 
Pauline  Bonaparte,  called  by  her  family  and  all  her 
friends,  <(  PRETTY  PAULETTE."  This  proposal  he  followed 
up  by  the  plan  of  a  second  alliance  between  me  and 
Louis  or  Jerome.  <(  Jerome  is  younger  than  Laurette," 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  123 

said  my  mother,  laughing.  (<  Indeed,  my  dear  Napoleon, 
you  are  acting  the  high  priest  to-day;  you  are  marrying 
everybody,  even  in  their  teens." 

Bonaparte  laughed  too,  but  with  an  air  of  embarass- 
ment.  He  admitted  that  when  he  got  up  that  morning 
a  marriage-breeze  had  blown  upon  him ;  and,  to  prove  it, 
he  added,  kissing  my  mother's  hand,  that  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  ask  her  to  commence  the  union  of  the  two 
families  by  a  marriage  between  him  and  herself,  as  soon 
as  a  regard  to  decency  would  permit. 

My  mother  has  frequently  related  to  me  this  extraor- 
dinary scene,  so  that  I  am  as  well  acquainted  with  it  as 
if  I  had  been  the  principal  actress  in  it.  She  eyed  Bona- 
parte for  some  seconds  with  an  astonishment  bordering 
upon  stupefaction ;  and  then  burst  into  so  hearty  a  laugh 
that  we  heard  her  in  the  next  room,  where  there  were 
three  or  four  of  us. 

Bonaparte  was  at  first  much  vexed  at  this  manner  of 
receiving  a  proposal  which  appeared  to  him  quite  natural. 
My  mother,  who  perceived  it,  hastened  to  explain  her- 
self, and  told  him  that  it  was  she,  on  the  contrary,  who 
in  this  affair  played  at  least,  in  her  own  eyes,  a  perfectly 
ridiculous  part. 

<(  My  dear  Napoleon,"  said  she,  when  she  had  done 
laughing,  <(  let  us  talk  seriously.  You  fancy  you  are 
acquainted  with  my  age.  The  truth  is,  you  know  nothing 
about  it.  I  shall  not  tell  it  you,  because  it  is  one  of  my 
little  weaknesses.  I  shall  merely  say  that  I  am  old 
enough  to  be  not  only  your  mother,  but  Joseph's,  too. 
Spare  me  this  kind  of  joke;  it  distresses  me,  coming 
from  you." 

Bonaparte  assured  her,  over  and  over  again,  that  he 
was  serious;  that  the  age  of  the  woman  whom  he  should 
marry  was  indifferent  to  him,  if,  like  herself,  she  did  not 
appear  to  be  past  thirty;  that  he  had  maturely  considered 
the  proposal  which  he  had  just  made  to  her;  and  he 
added  these  very  remarkable  words :  (<  I  am  determined 
to  marry.  They  want  to  give  me  a  woman  who  is 
charming,  good-tempered,  agreeable,  and  who  belongs  to 
the  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  My  Paris  friends  are  in 
favor  of  this  match.  My  old  friends  dissuade  me  from 
it.  For  my  own  part,  I  wish  to  marry,  and  what  I  pro- 
pose to  you  suits  me  in  many  respects.  Think  about  it. " 


124  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

My  mother  broke  off  the  conversation,  telling  him 
laughingly,  that  for  her  own  part  she  had  no  occasion 
to  think  any  further;  but,  as  to  what  concerned  my 
brother,  she  would  speak  to  him  about  it,  and  communi- 
cate his  answer  on  the  Tuesday  following  —  it  was  then 
Saturday.  She  gave  him  her  hand,  and  repeated,  still 
laughing,  that  though  she  had  some  pretensions,  they 
did  not  aspire  so  high  as  to  conquer  the  heart  of  a  man 
of  twenty-six,  and  that  she  hoped  their  friendship  would 
not  be  interrupted  by  this  little  affair. 

<(At  any  rate,  think  of  it,"  said  Bonaparte. 

"Well,  well,  I  will  think  of  it,"  replied  my  mother, 
laughing  as  heartily  as  before. 

I  was  too  young  to  be  made  acquainted  with  this  con- 
versation at  the  time  when  it  occurred.  It  was  not  till 
my  marriage  that  my  mother  related  to  me  the  par- 
ticulars here  detailed.  My  brother  made  a  note  of  this 
singular  affair.  Had  Bonaparte's  overtures  been  accepted, 
he  would  never  have  become  what  he  afterward  was. 

When  Junot  heard  of  it  he  told  us  that  the  thing  ap- 
peared less  extraordinary  to  him  than  to  us.  About  the 
4th  of  October  Bonaparte  had  got  himself  appointed  to 
some  committee  of  war:  I  know  not  what  the  appoint- 
ment was,  but  it  was  no  great  thing.  His  plans,  his 
schemes,  had  all  one  object,  one  direction,  which  tended 
toward  the  East.  The  name  of  Comnena  might  have  a 
powerful  interest  for  an  imagination  that  was  eminently 
creative;  the  name  of  Calomeros  joined  to  that  of  Comnena 
might  be  of  great  service  to  him.  <(  The  great  secret  of 
all  these  matches  lay  in  that  idea,"  thought  Junot;  and  I 
think  so  too. 

A  cousin  of  my  mother,  named  Dimo  Stephanopoli, 
had  shortly  before  arrived  from  Corsica,  and  applied  to 
her  to  assist  him  in  obtaining  employment  and  promo- 
tion. This  carries  me  back  to  a  period  of  which  I  can- 
not help  having  a  disagreeable  recollection,  since  it 
reminds  me  of  an  unpleasant  scene,  which  set  Bonaparte 
at  variance  forever  with  my  mother  —  a  circumstance 
which  I  cannot  forbear  deploring  whenever  the  conse- 
quences of  this  circumstance,  so  simple  in  itself,  occur 
to  my  memory. 

It  was,  as  I  have  said,  on  a  Saturday  that  Bonaparte 
had  the  conversation  which  I  have  just  detailed  with  my 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  125 

mother.  On  the  preceding  Wednesday,  when  my  mother 
had  a  party  to  dinner,  she  had  spoken  to  General  Bona- 
parte in  behalf  of  her  cousin  Stephanopoli,  begging  that 
he  would  get  him  admitted  into  the  Guard  of  the  Con- 
vention. He  was  five  feet  nine  inches  high  (French 
measure) ;  his  head  was  rather  too  small  for  that  tall 
stature,  but  he  had  handsome  features.  In  short,  there 
was  certainly  not  a  regiment  but  would  have  been  glad 
to  make  such  an  acquisition.  This  Bonaparte  admitted 
when  my  mother  remarked  it,  on  introducing  her  cousin 
to  him:  he  promised  a  speedy  and,  above  all,  a  favorable 
answer. 

On  Friday  my  mother  asked  the  General  if  he  had 
thought  of  her  recommendation.  (<  You  cannot  doubt  it,w 
replied  Bonaparte.  (<  I  have  the  promise  of  the  Minister 
of  War :  there  is  but  one  step  more  to  take,  which  I  pur- 
pose doing  to-morrow,  and  then  I  will  bring  you  the 
commission. M 

The  next  day  was  the  unlucky  Saturday.  My  mother 
asked  where  was  the  commission ;  (<  for, w  said  she,  M I 
look  upon  it  as  MINE.'*  He  answered  under  the  influence 
of  what  had  just  passed  between  them,  and  though  there 
was  no  asperity  in  his  words,  still,  he  did  not  appear  to 
be  so  well  disposed  as  on  the  preceding  day. 

((  Napoleon, w  said  my  mother  laughingly,  (<  there  are 
two  persons  in  you  at  this  moment.  Continue,  I  entreat 
you,  to  be  the  man  whom  I  love  and  esteem,  and,  above 
all,  do  not  let  the  other  get  the  better  of  you."  Bona- 
parte was  at  the  table  at  this  moment  by  the  side  of  my 
mother.  He  frowned,  and  pushed  his  plate  sharply  from 
him.  ((  Why  be  angry  ?  w  said  my  mother  mildly. 

(<You  mistake  the  real  cause  of  my  anger,"  replied 
Bonaparte.  <(  I  am  angry  with  myself.  This  is  Quintidi, 
and  nothing  done.  But  rely  upon  me  for  to-morrow." 
Out  of  delicacy  my  mother  did  not  insist  upon  that  day, 
though  she  had  a  good  mind  to  do  so.  The  same  evening 
she  spoke  to  my  brother  on  the  subject  of  the  morning's 
conversation.  My  brother  answered  u  No. w  Reasons 
foreign  to  these  memoirs  prevented  his  accepting  the 
proposal. 

On  Monday  morning  General  Bonaparte  called  to  see 
my  mother:  he  was  on  horseback,  and  surrounded  by  a 
numerous  staff.  He  appeared  in  high  spirits,  and  said  a 


126  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

number  of  amiable  and  even  flattering  things  to  my 
mother.  That  very  morning  Dimo  Stephanopoli  had 
written  his  cousin  a  long  and  ridiculous  letter  (I  beg  his 
pardon),  in  which  he  complained  bitterly  of  the  delay 
of  his  appointment,  which  he  seemed  to  lay  to  the  charge 
of  my  mother.  At  the  moment  when  General  Bonaparte 
was  kissing  her  hand,  and  praising  its  whiteness,  she 
snatched  it  from  his  with  violence,  and  asked  whether 
the  commission  was  at  last  made  out.  The  General 
replied  that  it  was  not,  but  that  it  was  promised  him 
for  the  MORROW. 

This  was  an  unlucky  expression ;  my  mother  would  not 
have  been  so  much  vexed  by  it  if  he  had  not  twice 
repeated  it  since  the  commencement  of  the  affair. 
<(  What  does  this  mean  ? w  she  asked,  contracting  her  two 
little  brows  into  a  frown,  and  looking  at  Bonaparte  with 
sparkling  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks.  <(  What  does  this 
mean  ?  Is  it  a  wager,  is  it  a  hoax,  or  is  it  ill-will  ?  In 
that  case  it  would  have  been  much  more  simple  to  refuse 
me  at  first.  I  dare  say  I  should  have  found  friends  who 
would  have  served  me. w 

(<  Nothing  of  the  kind  you  have  mentioned,  Madame 
Permon,"  replied  Bonaparte;  "important  business  has 
taken  up  every  moment  of  my  time. w 

<(  Every  moment  of  your  time  !  Don't  tell  me  such  ab- 
surdities !  And  what  can  be  the  important  business 
which  prevents  you  from  keeping  your  word  ?  Is  this 
the  custom  which  you  have  nowadays  adopted  in  your 
new  military  code  ?w 

Bonaparte  turned  crimson,  which  he  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  doing.  <(  You  are  rather  too  severe,  Madame 
Permon. w 

(<  Not  half  severe  enough.  You  want  a  good  shake  to 
waken  you  from  the  dream  into  which  the  grandeurs  of 
your  Republic  have  lulled  you." 

The  conversation,  which  had  at  first  been  general,  was 
suspended,  and  the  most  profound  silence  prevailed ;  both 
of  them  were  ruffled.  Chauvet,  who,  owing  to  his  friend- 
ship for  both,  could  do  more  than  any  other  to  restore 
peace,  made  an  attempt  and  addressed  two  or  three 
words  to  my  mother;  but  she  was  in  such  a  passion  that 
she  did  not  hear  what  was  said.  She  declared  that  <(  she 
felt  herself  aff rented. w 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  127 

Twenty  times  had  General  Bonaparte  given  his  word 
(this  is  quite  true)  that  the  commission  had  been  granted, 
and  that  some  trivial  formality  depending  on  himself 
was  the  sole  cause  of  the  delay.  She  had  explained  to 
him  how  important  it  was,  for  family  reasons,  that  Dimo 
Stephanopoli  should  have  his  commission.  General  Bona- 
parte knew  all  this,  and  day  after  day,  promise  after 
promise,  the  time  had  run  away  and  nothing  was  done. 
<(  Could  an  enemy  have  served  me  worse  ? n  continued  my 
mother,  becoming  more  animated  as  she  spoke.  w  In 
this  manner  he  prevented  the  steps  which  I  might  other- 
wise have  taken.  I  trusted  to  him,  in  short,  and w 

<(  You  are  too  warm  just  now  not  to  be  unjust,  Ma- 
dame Permon,"  said  General  Bonaparte,  taking  up  his  hat 
to  go  away.  (<  To-morrow  I  hope  to  find  you  more  calm, 
and  consequently  more  reasonable. w 

Bonaparte  approached  my  mother,  and  took  her  hand 
to  kiss  it,  but  she  was  so  irritated  that  she  drew  it  from 
him  with  violence.  In  this  movement  she  hit  him  upon 
the  eye  with  such  force  as  to  give  him  pain. 

(<  You  cannot  make  reparation  for  what  is  past, M  said 
she  haughtily.  (<  What  is  done,  is  done ;  with  me  words 
are  nothing,  actions  everything.  But  fare  you  well. 
Recollect  that  if  I  be  not  a  Corsican  by  family,  I  was 
born  in  Corsica. M 

(<  The  remembrance  of  that  will  always  be  agreeable 
to  me,  Madame  Panoria.  But  I  have  no  apprehension 
on  that  account.  Give  me,  therefore,  your  hand,  and  let 
us  be  reconciled. w  He  advanced  and  whispered  to  my 
mother,  at  the  same  time  stooping  to  take  her  hand, 
(( Those  young  folks  are  laughing  at  us.  We  look  like 
two  children.0 

My  mother  drew  back  her  hand,  and  folded  her  arms 
with  a  disdainful  smile.  Bonaparte  looked  at  her  for  a 
moment,  as  if  to  solicit  a  change  which  he  evidently 
wished  for.  When  he  saw  that  she  showed  no  disposi- 
tion to  relent,  he  made  a  motion,  which  was  rather  an 
expression  of  impatience  than  a  bow,  and  hastily  with- 
drew. 

<(  For  God's  sake,"  said  Chauvet,"  don't  part  thus!  Let 
me  call  him  back,  Madame  Permon,  I  entreat  you.  You 
have  hurt  his  feelings.  It  was  wrong  to  talk  to  him  in 
that  manner  before  his  aids-de-camp.  See  how  slowly 


128  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

he  goes  downstairs;  he  expects,  I  am  certain,  to  be  called 
back." 

My  mother's  disposition  was  excellent,  and  she  had  an 
advantage  that  is  very  rare  in  a  woman:  when  she  was 
in  the  wrong  she  would  admit  it.  But  whether,  at  this 
moment,  her  self-love  was  too  deeply  wounded,  or  whether 
she  actually  thought  she  was  not  in  the  wrong  on  this 
occasion,  she  would  not  allow  Chauvet  to  call  back  Bona- 
parte. 

<(  See  how  obstinate  he  is  on  his  side ! w  said  my 
mother.  <(  He  is  wrong,  but  nothing  would  induce  him 
to  recede  a  single  step.  Why,  then,  would  you  have  me 
take  that  retrograde  step  ? w  A  servant  presently  came 
to  say  that  the  General  wished  to  speak  with  M.  Chau- 
vet. (<Go,  my  dear  Chauvet,"  said  my  mother  giving 
him  her  hand;  (<  go.  Do  not  condemn  me;  I  am  not  to 
blame. w 

My  brother  was  absent  during  this  unfortunate  scene. 
Had  he  been  there,  I  am  sure  that  it  would  not  have 
happened,  or  that  he  would  have  given  a  different  turn 
to  the  affair.  When  I  related  the  particulars  to  him  in 
the  evening,  by  desire  of  my  mother  (for  she  could  not 
yet  talk  of  it  without  being  in  a  passion),  he  was  exceed- 
ingly vexed. 

I  know  not  whether  it  was  the  same  day  or  the  fol- 
lowing that  we  saw  Fesch.  His  disposition  was  kind, 
mild,  and  extremely  conciliating;  he  too  was  much  grieved 
at  this  quarrel  between  my  mother  and  his  nephew,  and 
endeavored  to  reconcile  them;  but  there  were  two 
obstacles,  the  more  difficult  to  be  removed  inasmuch  as 
one  of  them  was  known  only  to  my  mother  and  Bona- 
parte, and  the  other  to  himself  alone.  The  latter  was 
perhaps  the  more  important  of  the  two.  It  arose,  as 
Chauvet  had  anticipated,  from  what  he  had  suffered  on 
finding  himself  treated  like  a  schoolboy  who  had  just  left 
Brienne,  in  the  presence  of  officers  who  as  yet  knew 
but  little  about  him.  Had  there  been  none  present  but 
Junot,  Chauvet,  or  some  others,  he  would  have  been  the 
first  to  laugh  at  a  thing  which  now  severely  mortified 
him. 

The  other  point,  which  had  also  a  very  active  part  in 
the  whole  affair,  was  the  state  of  ill  humor  and  hostility 
in  which  Bonaparte  had  been  ever  since  the  preceding 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  129 

Saturday.  However,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  rupture  was 
complete.  We  were  several  days  without  seeing  him :  he 
then  called  one  evening  when  he  knew  that  we  were  at 
the  theater,  and  at  last  he  stayed  away  altogether.  We 
learned  shortly  afterward  from  his  uncle  and  Chauvet 
that  he  was  going  to  marry  Madame  de  Beauharnais, 
and  that  he  was  appointed  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
Army  of  Italy.  We  saw  him  once  more  before  his  de- 
parture, on  a  distressing  occasion. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 

Recollections  of  Toulouse  —  M.  de  Reurnier,  Commandant  —  Introduc- 
tion of  M.  de  Geouff  re  to  My  Mother  —  Mutual  Passion  —  Marriage  of 
M.  de  Geouffre  and  My  Sister  Cecile  —  Melancholy  Presentiments  of 
My  Sister  —  Her  Death — Visit  of  Condolence  Paid  by  Bonaparte  to 
My  Mother  —  Destruction  of  Our  Fortune  —  Comte  de  Perigord,  Uncle 
of  M.  de  Talleyrand  —  Admirable  Conduct  of  a  Valet  de  Chambre 
During  the  Reign  of  Terror  —  Death  of  Comte  de  Perigord  —  My 
Brother  Joins  the  Army  of  Italy  —  Decline  of  My  Mother's  Health  — 
Journey  to  the  Waters  of  Cauterets  —  The  Pyrenees. 

I  HAVE  mentioned  the  reasons  which  induced  my  mother 
to  entertain  company  during  our  residence  at  Tou- 
louse. One  day  when  she  had  invited  several  per- 
sons, among  whom  was  M.  de  Regnier,  Commandant  of 
the  place,  one  of  the  most  assiduous  of  our  friends,  he 
sent,  about  half  an  hour  before  dinner  time,  to  excuse 
himself.  He  wrote  to  my  mother  that  <(  one  of  his  friends, 
charged  with  a  mission  to  him,  had  just  arrived;  that  he 
was  obliged  to  do  the  honors  of  the  staff  of  the  place, 
and  could  not  leave  him.  *  My  mother's  answer  will  easily 
be  guessed;  she  begged  him  to  come  and  to  bring  his 
friend  along  with  him. 

(<An  Adjutant  General,  a  friend  of  Regnier, w  said  my 
mother,  <(  that  must  be  some  old  buffer  like  himself,  who 
will  be  very  dull.  Farewell  to  our  plan  of  music,  my 
young  friends  w  ( my  brother  had  just  then  leave  of  ab- 
sence to  come  and  pay  us  a  short  visit ) ;  <(  but  we  have 
one  resource,  and  that  is,  to  make  him  play  at  reversi. 
An  old  officer  of  infantry  is  sure  to  know  how  to  play 
at  cards  —  ay,  and  how  to  cheat,  too. w 
9 


130  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

My  mother  was  the  more  surprised  when  she  saw  M. 
de  Regnier  followed  by  a  young  man  of  genteel  appear- 
ance, having  a  handsome  face,  and  the  manners  of  very 
good  society,  which  at  the  period  in  question  was  an 
uncommon  thing.  After  dinner  the  music,  so  far  from 
being  abandoned,  was,  on  the  contrary,  carried  into  ex- 
ecution at  the  request  of  M.  de  Geouffre,  who  was  already 
persuaded  that  none  but  celestial  sounds  could  issue 
from  the  mouth  of  my  sister. 

Since  leaving  the  convent  of  the  Dames  de  la  Croix, 
my  sister  had  become  a  charming  creature.  Her  features 
were  not  regular  when  examined  separately ;  indeed,  there 
was  nothing  pleasing  in  them ;  but  they  formed  altogether 
a  whole  so  sweet,  so  graceful,  so  much  in  harmony  with 
the  rest  of  her  person,  that  on  seeing  her  it  was  im- 
possible to  help  exclaiming,  <(  What  a  delightful  girl !  * 
Large  dark  blue  eyes,  with  long  thick  eyelashes,  rosy 
cheeks,  teeth  perfectly  white,  the  finest  auburn  hair  I 
ever  saw,  a  slender  elegant  figure  —  these  advantages,  which 
are  by  no  means  exaggerated,  greatly  outweighed  Cecile's 
external  defects,  and  caused  you  to  overlook  too  wide  a 
mouth,  too  long  a  nose,  and  hands  and  arms  too  large 
for  her  height. 

But  my  sister  had,  moreover,  what  is  invaluable  in  a 
woman  —  namely,  a  charm  diffused  over  her  whole  person 
by  an  air  of  mild  melancholy  which  rendered  her  adora- 
ble. She  possessed  an  excellent  temper  and  good  under- 
standing. All  these  things  combined  to  form  a  halo,  which 
enveloped  that  bright  sweet  face  of  sixteen,  on  which 
you  were  quite  surprised  never  to  catch  more  than  a 
transient  smile.  Cecile  would  have  been  distinguished  in 
the  world  had  it  been  fortunate  enough  to  retain  her. 

The  day  on  which  M.  de  Geouffre  was  introduced  was 
one  of  her  SMILING  days,  as  we  called  them.  I  see  her 
still,  notwithstanding  the  many  years  that  have  since 
fled,  dressed  as  she  was  on  that  day.  She  wore  a  frock 
of  rose-colored  crape,  laced  behind,  showing  to  perfection 
her  slender  waist,  and  floating  around  her  like  a  roseate 
cloud.  The  sleeves  were  tight,  and  trimmed  at  the  bot- 
tom with  white  blonde,  forming  ruffles.  Her  shoulders 
and  bosom,  which  were  delicately  fair,  were  seen  through 
a  fichu  of  Chambery  gauze,  likewise  trimmed  with  white 
blonde.  A  pink  ribbon  passing  through  her  hair  formed 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  131 

a  bow  on  one  side.  On  seeing  her  thus  attired,  it  was 
impossible  to  avoid  being  struck  by  the  graceful  har- 
mony between  her  bright  youthful  face  and  this  costume, 
equally  bright  and  youthful.  It  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  M.  de  Geouffre.  In  the  evening  we  had  music.  My 
sister,  a  pupil  of  Herrmann,  was  an  excellent  performer 
on  the  piano;  she  played  two  duets  with  my  brother: 
she  sang,  and  the  evening  passed  away  as  by  enchant- 
ment. 

M.  de  Geouffre  was  not  proof  against  her  charms.  He 
became  so  enamored  of  my  sister  that  before  he  left  our 
house  he  felt  that  his  future  happiness  depended  on  one 
of  its  inmates.  M.  de  Geouffre  remained  at  Toulouse, 
and  forwarded  his  dispatches  by  an  officer  to  the  head- 
quarters of  General  Dugommier,  by  whom  he  was  sent. 
He  called  upon  us  next  day,  and  again  the  day  after- 
ward: my  mother,  who  immediately  perceived  the  drift 
of  his  visits,  dared  not  say  anything,  but  she  was  uneasy. 

At  length  M.  de  Geouffre  prevailed  upon  M.  de  Regnier 
to  speak  for  him,  though  the  latter  felt  extreme  repug- 
nance to  do  so,  for  he  was  acquainted  with  my  father's 
sentiments,  and  though  my  mother  was  infinitely  more 
moderate,  yet  M.  de  Regnier  did  not  conceal  from  his 
friend  the  certainty  that  there  would  be  a  tacit  agreement 
between  them  not  to  give  their  daughter  to  an  officer  of 
the  Republican  army.  As  he  had  foreseen,  my  father's 
first  word  was  a  refusal,  as  well  as  my  mother's. 

<(  And  what  have  you  to  object  against  him  ? w  said 
Regnier;  (<he  is  of  a  good  family.  I  have  proved  to  you 
that  he  belongs  to  the  Geouffres  of  the  Limousin ;  several 
of  that  family  served  in  Champagne  and  Burgundy,  and 
have  emigrated.  He  possesses  a  good  fortune  and  a  fine 
estate  near  Brives-la-Gaillarde ;  he  holds  a  distinguished 
rank  for  his  age;  he  is  highly  respected  in  the  army,  and 
Dugommier  promises  to  do  great  things  for  him.  He  is, 
besides,  a  handsome  man,  which  is  no  drawback  in  an 
affair  of  marriage.  Lastly,  he  is  a  man  of  sound  under- 
standing. Come,  Madame  Permon,  be  persuaded. w 

My  mother  admitted  the  truth  of  all  this,  but  still  said 
No;  nor  did  she  change  her  mind.  Soon  after  M.  de 
Geouffre  arrived  at  Toulouse  to  take  the  command  of  the 
military  division.  It  was  General  Dugommier  who,  out 
of  friendship  for  him,  and  wishing  to  facilitate  his  mar- 


132  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

riage,  thus  placed  him  in  a  situation  to  follow  up  his  suit 
more  effectually.  Accordingly,  when  he  was  at  Toulouse, 
his  personal  solicitations  were  joined  to  those  of  M.  de 
Regnier.  He  also  interested  in  his  behalf  a  family  with 
whom  we  were  very  intimate,  that  of  Peytes  de  Mon- 
cabrie'. 

Madame  de  Moncabrie*  was  the  first  to  project  a  plan 
which  nobody  had  thought  of,  how  strange  soever  it  may 
appear,  excepting  perhaps  M.  de  Geouffre  —  still,  it  was 
nothing  more  than  conjecture.  This  excellent  woman 
wrote  immediately  to  Madame  de  St.  Ange,  who  came 
without  delay.  She  said  nothing  to  my  mother,  but 
watched  Cecile.  She  soon  perceived  that  my  sister  was 
attacked  by  a  nervous  disease  which  might  prove  fatal. 

<(  Panoria,w  said  she  one  morning  to  my  mother,  a  when 
do  you  marry  Cecile  ? w  (<  What  a  question !  w  replied  my 
mother.  <(  You  know  perfectly  well  that  I  have  refused. w 
<(  Have  you  noticed  the  girl?  have  you  seen  how  she  is 
altered?  do  you  know  that  you  are  accountable  for  what 
she  suffers  ?  w  (<  Kalli,"  said  my  mother,  who  was  strongly 
excited,  (<  I  leave  you  to  manage  your  family  as  you 
please ;  let  me  beg  you  not  to  interfere  with  mine. w  <(  Is 
that  the  tone  you  assume?  Well,  then,  I  will  tell  you, 
with  my  habitual  bluntness,  that  you  are  not  a  good 
mother. w  (( Kalli !  n  (( Yes,  you  are  not  a  good  mother. 
Send  for  your  daughter;  ask  Loulou  how  her  sister 
passes  the  night,  and  you  will  alter  your  tone  a  little. w 

I  was  questioned,  and  obliged  to  confess  that  my  sister 
wept  a  great  deal;  but  she  had  so  strictly  forbidden  me 
to  mention  it  that  I  had  been  forced  to  be  silent.  My 
mother  burst  into  tears  in  her  turn:  my  sister  was 
called.  The  fact  is,  that  the  poor  girl  loved  as  well  as 
she  was  loved,  but  she  dared  not  say  a  word  about  it 
before  my  mother,  of  whom  she  was  exceedingly  afraid, 
because,  though  a  good  mother,  she  was  to  her  a  very 
severe  one. 

My  father  was  too  ill  to  be  talked  to  on  the  subject; 
my  brother  was  far  from  us;  I  was  too  young  for  such 
a  topic  of  conversation.  Madame  de  Moncabrie"  was,  in 
her  virtuous  kindness,  the  angel  who  guessed  the  secret 
that  would  ultimately  have  killed  the  poor  girl.  (<  You 
wish  for  this  marriage?  w  said  my  mother:  "well,  then, 
it  shall  take  place. w  Accordingly,  in  a  month,  my  sister, 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  133 

having  become  Madame  de  Geouffre,  was  settled  at  the 
Hotel  Spinola,  the  headquarters  of  the  military  division 
which  her  husband  commanded. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  a  happiness  more  complete 
than  that  of  my  sister  during  the  first  months  of  her 
marriage.  She  was  formed  to  feel  it,  and  accordingly 
she  fully  enjoyed  it.  It  was  disturbed  by  one  thing  only, 
and  that  was  the  idea  that  her  husband  might  be  called 
from  her  into  the  field.  It  was  to  no  purpose  to  tell  her 
that  the  elevated  rank  which  he  held  he  owed  solely  to 
his  presence  in  the  field  of  battle,  and  to  several  wounds 
from  which  he  had  recovered;  she  replied  to  it  all  by 
tears  only,  and  begged  in  a  timid  voice  that  her  hus- 
band would  send  in  his  resignation.  He  demonstrated 
to  her  with  a  smile  that  the  thing  was  impossible;  that 
his  army  was  engaged  in  active  warfare,  and  that  it 
would  be  compromising  his  honor. 

At  length  peace  between  France  and  Spain  was  signed, 
and  my  sister,  who  was  about  to  become  a  mother,  made 
a  fresh  attempt,  which  was  more  successful.  Her  hus- 
band, who  was  passionately  fond  of  her,  solicited  his 
dismissal  with  as  much  ardor  as  at  that  time  others 
solicited  appointments.  All  his  friends  dissuaded  him 
from  this  step,  which,  in  fact,  blasted  his  future  pros- 
pects. It  was  from  this  same  Army  of  the  Eastern 
Pyrenees  that,  a  few  months  afterward,  Bonaparte 
selected  the  multitude  of  superior  officers  who  formed 
the  nucleus  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  and  all  of  whom  were 
comrades  of  my  brother-in-law.  Such  were  Augereau, 
Lanusse,  Lannes,  Marbot,  Bessieres,  Duphot,  Clausel, 
etc.  His  destiny  would  not  have  been  different  from 
theirs;  but  he  yielded  to  the  entreaties  of  his  wife,  and 
they  retired  to  their  estate  at  Objat,  near  Brives-la- 
Gaillarde.  Thus,  at  the  age  of  only  twenty-four,  he 
returned  to  civil  life,  and  shut  himself  out  forever  from 
a  career  which  he  had  so  brilliantly  begun. 

When  my  sister  left  Toulouse  she  was  five  months  ad- 
vanced in  pregnancy.  At  her  departure  she  asked  my 
mother's  blessing  in  the  most  affecting  manner.  She  felt 
convinced,  she  said,  that  she  should  not  survive  her  ac- 
couchement. Her  presentiment  was,  alas!  but  too  well 
founded.  My  sister  was  brought  to  bed  toward  the  end 
of  January,  1795,  soon  after  the  death  of  my  father. 


134  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

My  brother-in-law  had  communicated  to  us  this  event, 
which  is  always  attended  with  apprehensions  for  a  young 
wife  who  is  confined  for  the  first  time,  with  a  joy  pro- 
portionate to  his  happiness.  Cecile  had  given  him  a  fine 
boy,  and  intended  to  nurse  him  herself.  (<  My  wife  is  so 
well,"  wrote  M.  de  Geouffre,  <(  that  she  is  already  talk- 
ing about  carrying  her  Adolphe  to  her  mother  to  receive 
her  blessing.  She  is  more  charming  than  ever,  with  a 
color  like  that  of  a  rose.  You  may  conceive,  my  dear 
mamma,  the  intense  joy  of  all  around  her,  so  dearly  is 
she  loved. w  The  rest  of  the  letter  contained  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  event,  which  had  been  fortunate  in  every 
respect.  It  took  place  on  the  23d,  and  the  letter  reached 
us  on  the  2yth  of  January. 

On  the  ist  of  February  my  mother  and  I  were  with 
my  brother,  who  had  the  second  floor  to  himself.  He 
had  caught  a  violent  cold,  and  we  had  dined  in  his  room, 
that  he  might  not  expose  himself  to  the  cold  air.  My 
mother  was  seated  on  his  sofa:  she  had  placed  my 
brother  in  a  large  easy  chair,  and  was  laughing  like  a 
child  at  the  thought  that,  if  my  brother  was  married,  as 
she  wished  him  to  be  within  six  months  ( she  had  a  very 
good  match  in  view  for  him),  I  might  also  be  some 
time  afterward.  (<  Now  the  game  is  begun,"  said  she, 
"  I  see  no  reason  why  I  may  not  be  grandmother  to 
twenty  or  thirty  children. J)  At  length  she  ceased  laugh- 
ing. <(  Cecile  must  be  a  charming  young  mother, w  said 
she  with  emotion ;  <(  I  should  like  to  see  her  in  her  new 
functions. w 

My  mother  was  very  changeable  in  her  impressions. 
When  talking  of  herself  as  a  grandmother,  the  idea  had 
tickled  her  so  much  that  she  had  laughed  till  she  cried. 
But  the  moment  her  imagination  presented  to  her  affec- 
tionate soul  the  picture  of  the  infant  who  had  made  her 
a  grandmother,  pressed  to  the  bosom  of  her  daughter, 
and  imbibing  life  at  that  source,  her  eyes  ran  over,  and 
she  fell  into  a  kind  of  reverie,  which  my  brother  and  I 
took  good  care  not  to  interrupt.  It  was  nine  o'clock:  all 
was  quiet,  for  at  that  period  equipages  were  rare  in 
Paris,  and  our  quarter,  independently  of  that,  was  then 
very  lonely.  We  all  three  kept  silence,  which  was 
broken  only  by  a  soft  and  monotonous  tune,  which  my 
mother  hummed  in  a  low  tone :  you  would  have  supposed 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  135 

that  she  was  lulling  an  infant  to  sleep.  She  was  think- 
ing of  Cecile  and  her  little  Adolphe. 

All  at  once  there  was  a  knock  at  the  gate,  given  with 
such  force  as  to  make  us  start.  My  brother  and  I  burst 
out  into  a  laugh.  <(  That  knock  makes  me  ill, "  said  my 
mother,  pressing  her  hand  to  her  forehead.  u  What  un- 
mannerly person  can  be  knocking  in  that  way  at  this 
time  of  night?"  We  heard  the  gate  shut,  and  presently 
heavy  steps  on  the  pavement.  My  brother  rang  the  bell, 
and  a  letter  which  the  postman  had  just  brought  was 
put  into  his  hand.  (( Ah ! w  said  Albert,  <(  news  from 
Cecile!  It  is  from  Drives,  and  Geouffre's  handwriting." 
(<  Whom  can  he  have  lost  ?  *  I  exclaimed,  the  black  seal 
of  the  letter  having  caught  my  eye.  In  asking  this 
question,  to  which  I  attached  no  importance,  I  raised  my 
eyes  to  my  brother:  he  was  pale  and  excessively  agitated. 
<(  What  says  Geouffre  in  that  letter  ? M  said  my  mother, 
rising  and  going  up  to  my  brother,  whose  sudden  emo- 
tion revealed  to  her  a  disaster.  (<  My  sister  has  been  ill, 
but  she  is  better  now,"  replied  Albert,  in  a  tremulous 
tone.  My  mother  snatched  the  letter,  cast  her  eyes  on 
it,  gave  a  frightful  shriek,  and  sank  upon  her  knees. 
My  poor  sister  was  dead! 

None  can  form  any  conception  of  our  anguish  but  those 
who  have  lost  objects  whom  they  dearly  loved  in  a  man- 
ner equally  unexpected:  neither  can  language  describe  or 
express  it.  My  mother  was  very  ill  for  several  days. 
The  death  of  my  sister  would  at  any  time  have  deeply 
afflicted  her ;  but  at  the  moment  when  she  had  become  a 
mother,  at  the  moment  when  the  tomb  had  scarcely  closed 
over  our  father!  And  then  that  mirth,  those  songs,  amidst 
which  this  death  had  been  announced!  Poor  mother!  she 
was  unhappy,  very  unhappy;  for  to  all  these  causes  of 
grief  was  superadded  another,  which  my  brother  and  I 
had  alone  been  acquainted  with,  and  which  wrung  her 
heart  when  it  came  to  her  knowledge. 

Cecile  was  regretted  by  all  who  knew  her.  The  family 
into  which  she  had  been  adopted,  her  mother-in-law,  her 
father-in-law,  mourned  her  like  ourselves.  She  was  gentle 
and  pious  as  an  angel ;  endowed  with  talents,  virtues,  graces 
—  those  attractive  charms  which  are  not  to  be  imitated, 
and  which  win  everybody's  love.  Bonaparte  sent  the 
very  next  day  after  we  heard  of  this  new  calamity  which 


136  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

had  befallen  my  mother,  and  called  himself  to  see  her. 
He  talked  to  her  in  a  tone  of  the  sincerest  friendship. 
My  mother  was  so  overwhelmed  that  she  could  scarcely  pre- 
vail upon  herself  to  admit  him.  He  set  out  immediately 
afterward  for  Italy.  He  was  already  married  to  Madame 
de  Beauharnais. 

My  brother-in-law  came  almost  immediately  to  Paris. 
His  interview  with  us  was  agonizing.  My  mother  felt 
her  misfortune  still  more  keenly  when  she  saw  M.  de 
Geouffre.  She  said  to  me,  when  going  to  bed  at  night, 
that  perhaps  she  might  not  be  able  to  see  him  again  the 
next  day.  His  presence  reminded  her  of  the  time  when 
she  had  withstood  all  solicitations  to  unite  him  to  my 
sister.  Cecile  loved  him,  and  my  mother  exclaimed,  with 
tears,  (<  Poor  Cecile !  thy  life  was  so  short,  and  I  have 
abridged  it  of  six  months'  happiness !  J) 

M.  de  Geouffre  did  not  remain  long  with  us.  He  re- 
turned to  the  Limousin,  whither  he  was  recalled  by  the 
only  interest  that  was  left  him.  He  was  impatient  to  be 
again  with  his  child,  whom  he  had  consigned  to  the  care 
of  his  mother.  On  taking  leave  of  him  we  made  him 
promise  to  bring  Adolphe  to  us  very  soon. 

We  had  been  obliged  to  apprise  my  mother  that  our 
situation  was  no  longer  such  as  she  might  suppose  it  to 
ue.  The  blow  was  less  painful  than  I  had  apprehended. 
There  were  in  her  heart  so  many  bleeding  wounds  that 
it  was  scarcely  affected  by  matters  of  that  kind.  She  was 
perfectly  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  making  retrench- 
ments in  our  household,  which  had  been  kept  up  on  too 
expensive  a  scale  for  our  almost  ruined  fortune. 

My  brother,  who  thought  only  of  our  welfare,  without 
caring  about  himself,  resolved  to  turn  his  attention  to 
commerce,  and  had  the  good  luck  to  succeed  in  his  first 
speculations.  He  was  about  to  devote  himself  entirely  to 
this  career,  but  was  afraid  to  enter  into  an  engagement 
which  would  have  bound  him  for  fifteen  years.  He 
would  have  been  obliged  to  go  to  India,  to  expatriate 
himself,  and  leave  us  without  protection.  All  this  de- 
terred him.  He  thanked  our  friend  Magon,  who  had 
procured  him  this  chance  of  making  his  fortune,  and  con- 
fined himself  to  what  he  was  then  doing. 

My  mother  had  again  met  with  some  old  friends.  The 
prisons  were  open  ever  since  the  downfall  of  the  Direc- 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  137 

tonal  regime,  and  people  began  to  breathe  with  more 
freedom.  We  had  again  fallen  in  with  persons  to  whom 
we  had  bidden  a  painful  adieu.  This  produced  a  singular 
impression,  a  mixture  of  delight  and  uneasiness;  and  it 
was  a  long  time  before  we  could  enjoy  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  them  again  at  liberty.  But  how  was  this  satis- 
faction embittered  in  regard  to  many  of  them!  Among 
these  was  the  dearest  of  my  mother's  friends,  he  whom 
I  loved  in  my  childhood  as  one  loves  a  grandfather  —  I 
mean  the  Comte  de  Perigord.  Having  escaped  the  san- 
guinary proscriptions,  he  returned  to  society  without 
happiness,  without  joy.  He  was  already  far  advanced  in 
years,  ailing,  afflicted  with  gout,  wholly  destitute  of  for- 
tune, and  absolutely  isolated.  His  two  sons  had  emigrated. 
His  daughter,  the  Duchesse  de  Mailly,  was  dead:  there 
were  left  behind  only  a  few  friends  as  unfortunate  as 
himself,  and  whose  deplorable  situation  prevented  them 
from  rendering  him  any  assistance.* 

When  we  first  saw  him  again  my  mother  could  not 
help  starting  with  sad  surprise.  So  great  was  the  change 
that  the  eye  of  friendship  could  scarcely  recognize  him. 
There  was  the  same  kindness  in  his  tone,  but  he  was  no 
longer  the  same:  his  eye  was  dim,  and  it  was  evident 
that  the  springs  of  life  were  worn  out. 

How  could  I  say  that  he  was  alone!  how  could  I  have 
forgotten  a  man  as  noble  as  any  titled  hero,  devoting 
himself  to  his  master's  service,  and  saving  his  life  by 
his  admirable  management!  The  Comte  de  Perigord  had 
in  his  household  a  valet  named  Beaulieu.  This  man  had 
always  been  an  excellent  servant;  he  proved  that  interest 
had  not  been  his  stimulus.  From  the  moment  that  his 
master  was  apprehended  all  his  attention  was  directed  to 
him.  He  carried  to  him  whatever  he  thought  would  be 
good  for  or  agreeable  to  him.  In  short  his  devotedness 
was  entire  and  exclusive. 

The  Comte  de  Perigord,  like  all  the  innocent  persons 
who  were  then  thrown  into  prison,  was  persuaded  that 
by  wearying  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  by  petitions 
he  should  obtain  prompt  and  complete  justice.  Nothing 
could  be  more  false  than  this  reasoning,  as  Beaulieu 

*From  this  number  must  be  excepted  the  Comte  de  Montchenu, 
who,  having  preserved  his  fortune,  did  for  Comte  de  Perigord  all  that 
devoted  attachment  can  do  for  a  needy  friend. 


138  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

learned  from  one  of  the  relatives  of  the  man  in  whose 
house  Robespierre  lodged.  Repeated  petitions  occasioned 
the  death  of  most  of  the  prisoners.  In  many  instances, 
the  writer  had  never  been  thought  of.  The  first  petition 
produced  ill-humor;  the  second  aggravated  it;  and  very 
frequently  the  wretches  brought  the  poor  victims  to  trial 
to  avoid  the  annoyance  of  a  third  petition. 

Beaulieu,  on  hearing  of  this  mode  of  rendering  jus- 
tice, determined  that  his  master  should  not  obtain  it  in 
that  manner.  Now,  poor  Comte  de  Perigord  was  one  of 
the  very  persons  who  cherished  the  conviction  that  they 
could  get  out  of  prison  only  by  dint  of  importunity.  In 
consequence,  a  petition  was  daily  addressed  either  to  ce 
bon  Monsieur  de  Robespierre,  or  to  cet  excellent  Monsieur 
de  Collot-d'  Herbois,  or  again  to  Monsieur  Fouquier- 
Tinville.  <(  How  very  odd  it  is! w  at  length  exclaimed 
Comte  de  Perigord,  w  nobody  answers  me.  I  cannot 
understand  it.* 

There  was  a  very  good  reason  why  his  petitions  re- 
mained unanswered.  Beaulieu  threw  them  all  into  the 
fire.  In  this  manner  he  caused  his  master  to  be  forgot- 
ten. He  bribed  the  turnkeys  handsomely;  and,  then,  as 
soon  as  the  Comte  de  Perigord  began  to  be  known  in 
one  prison  he  obtained  his  removal  to  another.  In  short, 
a  son  could  not  have  shown  a  more  affectionate  and, 
above  all,  a  more  active  solicitude  for  his  father.  When 
he  had  the  good  fortune  to  recover  his  liberty,  M.  de 
Perigord  went  to  lodge  at  the  house  of  a  friend,  M.  de 
Montchenu.  Beaulieu  was  still  about  him,  bestowing  on 
him  the  most  delicate  attentions  and  sacrificing  for  this 
purpose  all  that  he  had. 

As  a  proof  of  the  kind  disposition  of  M.  de  Perigord, 
one  of  his  servants  in  livery,  a  class  of  domestics  whose 
sentiments  are  in  general  less  honorable  and  less  ele- 
vated, on  hearing  that  his  master  was  again  out  of 
prison,  went  and  offered  him  his  services.  This  man's 
name  was  Boisvert.  I  know  not  what  became  of  him  or 
Beaulieu  at  the  death  of  M.  de  Perigord,  which  happened 
shortly  after  his  liberation;  but  I  hope  that  the  Prince 
de  Chalais  has  duly  provided  for  them ;  merit  so  extraor- 
dinary has  a  right  to  be  rewarded. 

The  Comte  de  Perigord  had  a  clubfoot;  I  do  not  recol- 
lect whether  it  was  so  from  birth,  or  the  consequence 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  139 

of  a  hurt;  but  there  are  reasons  to  believe  it  was  a 
family  defect.  He  came  every  Thursday  to  spend  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  day  with  us,  and  this  was  sure  to  give 
rise  to  a  smart  altercation  between  him  and  Beaulieu. 
He  insisted  upon  coming  on  foot;  Beaulieu  would  not 
let  him,  and  told  him  with  truth  that  he  could  not.  His 
infirmity,  in  fact,  prevented  him  from  walking.  He  suf- 
fered great  pain. 

One  day  he  received  a  letter  from  M.  de  Chalais,  who 
was  then  in  England.  He  told  his  father  that  he  was 
starving,  that  the  emigrants  in  England  were  reduced 
to  the  extremity  of  want,  and  that  he  was  completely 
wretched.  M.  de  Perigord  happened  to  dine  at  my 
mother's  on  the  very  day  when  this  letter  arrived.  The 
change  which  it  had  wrought  in  him  was  striking;  he 
had  persuaded  himself  that  the  account  of  his  son's 
misery  was  literally  true.  During  the  whole  dinner  he 
could  not  help  repeating,  "Good  God!  they  are  perish- 
ing with  hunger!  w  and  the  viands  remained  untouched 
upon  his  plate. 

At  length  several  persons  urged  that  this  could  not  be 
possible,  since  he  knew  himself  that  M.  de  Chalais  had 
carried  resources  away  with  him.  <(  He  may  have  lost 
them,w  said  the  poor  father.  The  very  next  day  he 
learned  to  a  certainty,  from  a  person  who  had  returned 
to  France  (for  there  were  some  who  had  returned  so 
early),  that  his  son  was  still  rich;  at  any  rate  that  he  pos- 
sessed property  which  placed  him  beyond  the  reach  of 
want.  <(  The  emigrants  are  not  all  so  well  off  as  he  is,  * 
said  M.  de  N. 

The  Comte  de  Perigord  was  more  easy,  but  a  blow 
had  been  given  to  a  constitution  worn  out  by  the  four 
years  of  revolution  which  had  elapsed.  The  death  of 
the  King  and  Queen,  the  captivity  of  the  young  King 
and  the  Princess,  the  misfortunes  of  the  monarchy, 
which  had  affected  him  as  family  calamities,  all  this 
work  of  destruction  had  inflicted  a  mortal  stroke;  the 
least  shock,  therefore,  was  sufficient  to  put  an  end  to 
him.  Eight  days  afterward  the  place  which  he  occupied 
at  our  table  was  vacant,  and  two  days  later  he  was  no 
more. 

His  death  was  a  new  calamity  for  my  mother;  she  fell 
ill.  Her  lungs  were  affected.  Sleeplessness,  an  obstinate 


HO         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

cough,  slight  fever,  and  other  alarming  symptoms,  induced 
her  to  consult  a  physician ;  she  was  ordered  to  the  waters 
of  Cauterets. 

Meanwhile  my  brother  received  a  letter  which  was 
destined  to  produce  a  great  change  in  our  situation. 
He  was  summoned  to  Italy  to  take  upon  him  adminis- 
trative functions.  I  am  sure  that  Bonaparte  was  no 
stranger  to  this  appointment,  though  he  appeared  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it. 

The  parting  was  painful.  So  many  misfortunes  had 
burst  upon  us,  so  many  wounds  had  been  inflicted  on 
the  heart  of  my  poor  mother,  that  she  dreaded  every- 
thing. She  was  on  the  point  of  begging  my  brother 
not  to  leave  her.  Had  she  been  alone  he  would,  no 
doubt,  not  have  done  so.  But  no  sooner  did  her  eyes 
rest  upon  me  than  she  felt  that  it  was  my  brother's  duty 
to  perform  the  promise  which  he  had  made  to  my  father 
on  his  deathbed.  My  mother  therefore  consented  to  his 
departure. 

I  was  left  alone  to  attend  her;  and,  notwithstanding 
my  youth,  I  was  also  charged  with  the  management  of 
all  her  concerns.  w  God  will  give  you  the  strength  and 
judgment  necessary  to  enable  you  to  perform  your  noble 
task,  my  dear  girl,*  said  my  brother  to  me,  clasping  me 
in  his  arms  at  the  moment  of  his  departure.  (<  Have  con- 
fidence in  God,  confidence  in  yourself,  and  all  will  go  on 
well.  I  will  often  write  to  you;  and  you  must  inform 
me  of  everything.  Whenever  my  mother  shall  express  a 
wish  which  the  means  I  leave  you  are  inadequate  to 
gratify,  write  to  me  immediately,  and  that  God  in  whom 
I  put  great  faith  will  not  forsake  two  children  whose  sole 
aim  is  the  happiness  of  their  mother. M 

My  brother  proceeded  to  his  destination,  and  we,  on 
our  part,  set  out  for  the  Pyrenees.  At  a  later  period  I 
revisited  those  beautiful  mountains.  I  skirted  and  crossed 
their  long  chain;  but  it  was  not  till  my  third  journey 
to  Cauterets  that  I  could  indulge  my  ardent  wish  to  ex- 
plore the  mountains  which  I  saw  before  me.  Those  noble 
pine  forests  which  encircle,  as  it  were,  the  Vignemale, 
the  loftiest  of  the  French  Pyrenees,  beheld  me  pursuing 
alone  the  tracks  trodden  by  the  caprice  of  pedestrians.* 

*  Queen  Hortense  made  the  same  tour  the  year  before ;  her  journey 
has  no  resemblance  to  mine.  My  guides  lost  their  way;  but  though  her 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  141 

La  Cerisay,  Maourat,  le  Pont  d'Espagne,  the  Lac  de 
Gaube,  and  even  Esplemousse,  were  the  favorite  points 
of  the  excursion  which  I  took  with  my  mother,  not  on 
foot  (for  she  was  unable  to  walk),  but  in  the  odd  vehicle 
of  the  country.  It  is  a  kind  of  sedan,  formed  by  a  small 
straw  stool,  to  which  are  attached  two  strong  poles,  and 
which  is  covered  with  white  cloth,  supported  by  three 
very  slight  hoops ;  and  a  small  piece  of  wood,  two  inches 
broad,  for  the  feet  to  rest  upon,  is  attached  by  two  bits 
of  pack  thread.  When  you  are  seated  in  this  species  of 
cage,  two  sturdy  mountaineers,  hawk-eyed  and  chamois- 
footed,  carry  you  off  with  an  agility  that  is  at  first 
alarming.  There  is  something  romantic  in  the  velocity 
with  which  you  are  hurried  along  the  brink  of  a  dark 
precipice,  the  depth  of  which  the  eye  cannot  measure,  or 
in  an  ascent  not  less  rapid  through  an  ocean  of  clouds 
to  which  the  sun  communicates  every  shade  of  crimson 
and  purple. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Our  Return  to  Paris  —  The  Emigrants —  Sketches  of  Parisian  Society  — 
Public  Balls  and  Well-Known  Characters  —  Ball  at  the  Thelusson 
Hotel  —  Madame  de  D. — M.  d'Hautefort  —  Madame  Bonaparte  — 
Madame  Tallien  —  Madame  Hamelin. 

MY  MOTHER'S  health  was  nearly  re-established  when  we 
returned  from  the  waters.  Her  grief,  too,  was  much 
softened  by  change  of  scene,  and  still  more  by  the 
hope  of  again  meeting  at  Paris  a  great  number  of  inti- 
mate acquaintances  commonly  called  FRIENDS,  and  who, 
though  not  real  friends,  gave  a  peculiar  charm  to  the 
commerce  of  life.  This  charm  is  unknown  to  the  society 
of  the  present  day,  which  is  become  harsh  and  ill-natured  ; 
none  will  admit  that  in  the  daily  intercourse  of  life  each 
ought  to  furnish  his  contingent  of  complaisance  and  affa- 
bility. Accordingly,  we  now  see  none  of  those  assem- 
blages of  forty  or  fifty  persons  meeting  daily  at  the  houses 
of  five  or  six  of  their  number. 

Independently  of  the  pleasures  which  this  way  of    liv- 

tour  was  not  attended  with  perilous  risks  like  mine,  she  presented  her 
guides  with  a  gold  medal,  inscribed  Voyage  au  Vignemale. 


H2         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

ing  afforded,  more  important  advantages  resulted  from 
it.  A  person  who  possessed  no  influence  always  found  a 
support  in  the  company  to  which  he  belonged.  If  you 
were  not  swayed  by  a  feeling  of  good  nature,  you  were 
afraid  of  meeting  every  day  a  person  whom  you  had  re- 
fused to  oblige ;  you  would  have  seen  a  discontented  face. 
It  was  therefore  obligatory  on  him  who  had  it  in  his  power 
to  oblige  those  about  him.  I  admit  that  then,  as  still, 
there  existed  abuses,  and  that  many  of  them  originated 
in  favor;  but  I  will  ask  if,  under  a  form  more  rude,  more 
uncertain  for  the  parties  concerned,  less  agreeable  in  its 
results,  there  are  not  at  this  day,  as  there  were  at  the 
time  of  which  I  am  speaking,  children  of  favoritism  and 
immense  abuses  of  power.  If  I  had  time  to  throw  away 
I  could  make  out  a  fine  list  of  obscure  names  which  the 
country  knows  only  from  their  being  inserted  in  patents 
and  grants  of  pensions. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  when  my  mother  heard  of  the  re- 
turn of  the  greater  part  of  her  acquaintances  her  joy  was 
extreme.  France  then  wore  the  appearance  of  tranquillity, 
and  the  emigrants  returned  in  crowds  with  a  confidence 
which  proved  very  fatal  to  them  a  few  months  later  (in 
Fructidor),  but  which  seemed  at  that  time  to  be  per- 
fectly well  founded.  The  enchantment  of  the  women,  es- 
pecially, was  quite  infectious.  At  length  they  again 
beheld  that  dear  native  country,  beautiful  France,  the 
remembrance  of  which  imparts  double  bitterness  to  every 
land  of  exile,  how  hospitable  soever  it  may  be. 

I  recollect  that  at  the  first  meeting  between  my  mother 
and  Madame  Martois,  with  whom  she  had  been  inti- 
mately acquainted,  that  lady  (who  had  been  but  two 
days  in  Paris,  and  was  still  quite  overcome  with  joy  at 
the  mere  sight  of  the  Barriers)  threw  herself  into  my 
mother's  arms,  burst  into  tears,  and  was  more  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  she  could  overcome  her  emo- 
tion. Her  daughter  told  us  that  the  same  thing  occurred 
with  all  the  friends  whom  she  again  met;  in  this  there 
was  on  her  part  neither  affectation  nor  acting;  it  pro- 
ceeded from  an  ardent  soul,  which  enjoyed  in  its  pleni- 
tude all  the  happiness  attached  to  the  term  NATIVE 
COUNTRY.  But  how  many  disappointments  awaited  the 
unhappy  exiles  on  their  return  to  their  native  land !  Pov- 
erty, isolation,  death,  were  the  lot  of  most  of  them. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  143 

One  of  the  most  painful  situations,  and  to  which  I  was 
frequently  witness,  arose  from  the  diversity  of  shades 
of  opinion.  This  produced  discord  in  the  most  united 
families.  The  destruction  of  principles  had  led,  as  a  nat- 
ural consequence,  to  one  of  a  similar  nature  in  the  most 
ordinary  habits  of  life.  Thus  all  those  delightful  reun- 
ions which  formerly  constituted  the  charm  of  intimate 
acquaintance  no  longer  existed,  or  were  poisoned  by  pol- 
itics, which  engendered  contradiction,  anger,  or  quarrels, 
frequently  terminating  in  ruptures  between  husband  and 
wife,  brother  and  sister,  or  father  and  son. 

Private  individuals  were  afraid  of  appearing  wealthy 
by  receiving  company  habitually,  and  they  contented 
themselves  with  frequenting  public  assemblages  where, 
at  that  time,  the  best  society  was  to  be  found.  It  would 
scarcely  be  believed  at  the  present  day  that  the  most 
elegant  women  went  to  dance  at  the  Thelusson*  and 
the  Richelieu f  balls;  but  persons  of  all  opinions,  of  all 
castes,  were  there  intermingled,  and  laughed  and  danced 
together  in  the  utmost  harmony. 

One  day  at  the  Thelusson  ball  a  droll  adventure  befell 
Madame  de  D.,  who  sometimes  took  her  daughter  with  her. 

Madame  de  D.  had  arrived  very  late.  The  great  cir- 
cular room  was  quite  full,  and  it  was  impossible  to  find 
two  places.  Nevertheless,  by  dint  of  elbowing  and  en- 
treaties, these  ladies  penetrated  to  the  center  of  the  room. 
Madame  de  D.,  who  was  not  of  an  absolutely  timid  char- 
acter, looked  about  on  all  sides  to  see  if  she  could  at 
least  discover  one  seat,  when  her  eyes  encountered  a 
young  and  charming  face,  surrounded  by  a  profusion  of 
light  hair  with  a  pair  of  large  dark  blue  eyes,  and  ex- 
hibiting altogether  the  image  of  the  most  graceful  of 
sylphs.  This  young  female  was  conducted  back  to  her 
seat  by  M.  de  Tre"nis,  which  proved  that  she  danced 
well;  for  M.  de  Tre"nis  invited  none  to  the  honor  of  be- 
ing his  partners  but  such  as  deserved  the  character  of 

GOOD    DANCERS. 

The  graceful  creature  after  courtesying  with  a  blush 
to  the  Vestris  of  the  ballroom,  sat  down  by  the  side  of 

*  At  the  Hotel  Thelusson,  at  the  extremity  of  the  Rue  Cerutti,  facing 
the  Boulevard,  there  was  at  that  time  an  immense  arcade.  Murat  pur- 
chased it  during  the  Consulate. 

f  Held  in  like  manner  at  the  Hotel  Richelieu. 


144  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

a  female  who  appeared  to  be  her  elder  sister,  and  whose 
elegant  dress  excited  the  notice  and  envy  of  all  the 
women  at  the  ball.  <(  Who  are  those  persons  ? "  said 
Madame  de  D.,  to  the  old  Marquis  d'Hautefort,  who  es- 
corted her.  (<  What !  is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  recognize 
the  Viscountess  Beauharnais  ?  It  is  she  and  her  daugh- 
ter. She  is  now  Madame  Bonaparte.*  But  stay,  there  is 
a  vacant  place  by  her;  come  and  sit  down;  you  may  re- 
new your  acquaintance  with  her.* 

Madame  de  D.,  without  making  any  reply,  took  the 
arm  of  M.  d'Hautefort,  and  drew  him,  whether  he  would 
or  not,  into  one  of  the  little  saloons  which  preceded  the 
great  rotunda.  <(  Are  you  mad  ?  *  said  she  to  him,  when 
they  had  reached  the  room.  <(  A  pretty  place,  truly,  by 
the  side  of  Madame  Bonaparte!  Ernestine  would  of 
course  have  been  obliged  to  make  acquaintance  with  her 
daughter.  Why,  Marquis,  you  must  have  lost  your  wits." 
<(  No,  'faith!  What  harm  can  there  be  in  Ernestine's 
making  acquaintance,  or  even  forming  a  close  friendship 
with  Mademoiselle  Hortense  de  Beauharnais  ?  She  is  a 
charming  girl,  sweet-tempered,  amiable. w  <(  What  is  all 
that  to  me!  I  will  never  connect  myself  with  such  per- 
sons. I  do  not  like  people  who  disgrace  their  misfortunes. w 
M.  d'Hautefort  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  held  his 
tongue. 

(<  Eh  !  mon  Dieu  !  Who  is  that  beautiful  woman  ?  "  in- 
quired Madame  de  D.,  pointing  to  a  female  who  entered 
the  ballroom,  and  on  whom  all  eyes  were  instantly  fixed. 
This  lady  was  above  the  middle  height,  but  a  perfect 
harmony  in  her  whole  person  took  away  all  appearance 
of  the  awkwardness  of  too  lofty  a  stature.  It  was  the 
Venus  of  the  Capitol,  but  still  more  beautiful  than  the 
work  of  Phidias;  for  you  perceived  in  her  the  same  per- 
fection of  features,  the  same  symmetry  in  arms,  hands, 
and  feet,  and  the  whole  animated  by  a  benevolent  ex- 
pression, a  reflection  of  the  magic  mirror  of  the  soul, 
which  indicated  all  that  there  was  in  that  soul,  and  this 
was  kindness. 

Her  dress  did  not  contribute  to  heighten  her  beauty, 
for  it  consisted  of  a  plain  robe  of  India  muslin,  with 

*  At  this  period  Madame  Bonaparte  was  not  much  known  in  the 
world,  nor  had  she  been  presented  at  the  Court  of  Marie  Antoinette. 
The  real  fact  was,  that  Madame  de  D.  did  not  know  her. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  145 

folds  in  the  antique  style,  and  fastened  by  a  cameo  on 
each  shoulder;  a  gold  belt  encircled  her  waist,  and  was 
likewise  fastened  by  a  cameo;  a  broad  gold  bracelet  con- 
fined her  sleeve  considerably  above  the  elbow;  her  hair, 
of  a  glossy  black,  was  short,  and  curled  all  round  her 
head,  in  the  fashion  then  called  £  la  Titus ;  over  her 
fair  and  finely-turned  shoulders  was  thrown  a  superb  red 
cashmere  shawl,  an  article  at  that  time  very  rare  and  in 
great  request.  She  disposed  it  around  her  in  a  manner 
at  once  graceful  and  picturesque,  and  formed  altogether 
a  most  enchanting  figure. 

"That  is  Madame  Tallien,"*  said  M.  d'Hautefort  to 
Madame  de  D.  (<  Madame  Tallien !  *  exclaimed  she. 
<(  Good  God !  how  could  you  bring  me  to  such  a  place, 
my  dear  friend  ? w  (<  I  defy  you  to  find  in  all  Paris  a 
place  where  better  company  is  brought  together."  He 
then  muttered  some  of  the  civil  things  which  he  had  at 
the  service  of  those  who  displeased  him. 

At  this  moment  a  very  strong  scent  of  attar  of  roses 
suddenly  pervaded  the  apartment.  A  crowd  of  young 
men,  of  the  class  then  called  incroyables^  rushed  toward 
the  door  to  meet  a  young  lady  who  had  but  just  arrived, 
though  it  was  exceedingly  late.  Her  figure  was  not  good, 
but  her  little  feet  danced  to  admiration.  She  was  dark, 
but  her  black  eyes  sparkled  with  expression.  Her  face 
beamed  with  intelligence,  and  expressed  at  the  same 
time  all  the  kindness  of  the  simplest  person.  She  was  a 
good  friend,  and  the  most  amusing  of  women. 

In  short,  she  pleased ;  she  was  a  toast  of  the  day.  All 
the  remarkable  men  surrounded  her  as  soon  as  she  ap- 
peared. M.  Charles  Dupaty,  M.  de  Tr6nis,  and  M. 
Lafitte,  immediately  asked  her  to  dance  with  them;  she 
answered  each  with  an  expression  of  good-humor  and 
intelligence,  smiling  in  such  a  manner  as  to  exhibit  her 
ivory  teeth ;  she  continued  to  advance,  shedding  fragrance 
throughout  the  whole  room. 

Madame  de  D.,  who  was  annoyed  by  the  perfume,  and 
who,  like  all  busybodies,  found  fault  with  what  others 
liked,  began  to  fidget  about  on  the  bench  upon  which 
she  had  found  a  seat,  and  at  length  said  aloud,  (<  Upon 

*I   have  lived    at   Bordeaux;  I   have    had  friends  who  owed   their 
lives  to  Madame  Tallien.     I  have  been  told  all  the  good  she  has  done, 
and  I  cannot  say  too  much  on  that  subject. 
10 


146  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

my  word,  I  think  that  must  be  either  Fargeon's  wife  or 
his  daughter.*  'Tis  enough  to  make  the  strongest  man 
faint."  "It  is  Madame  Hamelin,"  said  M.  d'Hautefort. 

Next  day  he  told  us  that  nothing  had  amused  him 
more  that  evening  than  being  in  attendance  on  Madame 
de  D.,  and  having  to  name  the  persons  who  were  real 
bugbears  to  her.  <(  Madame  Hamelin!M  she  exclaimed  — 
(<  Madame  Hamelin !  Come,  Ernestine, })  added  she,  in  a 
voice  tremulous  with  anger,  (<  put  on  your  palatine,  and 
let  us  go. M  All  that  could  be  said  served  only  to  hasten 
her  departure.  <(  And  that  Marquis,*  repeated  she,  in  a 
tone  of  indignation,  <(  to  assure  me  that  I  should  here 
meet  with  my  former  society!  Yes,  indeed;  for  this  hour 
past  I  have  been  falling  out  of  the  frying  pan  into  the 
fire.  Come,  my  dear,  let  us  go. w 

This  scene  passed  a  few  paces  from  the  bench  on  which 
my  mother  and  I  were  sitting.  We  were  well  acquainted 
with  the  Marquis  d'Hautefort,  who  was  very  satirical, 
and  who  frequently  made  us  laugh  by  the  account  of 
his  adventures  at  this  ball. 


CHAPTER     XXI. 

The  Army  of  Italy  —  Triumphs  of  Bonaparte  —  My  Brother  at  Massa- 
Carrara  —  Lucien- Brutus  and  Saint  Maximin-Marathon  —  Lucien 
Bonaparte  and  Christine  Boyer  —  Excursion  to  Versailles  —  Leoben 
and  Campo-Formio  —  Adventures  of  My  Brother  —  Rivalship  of 
Lannes  and  My  Brother  —  Elopement  of  Madame  Felice  — 
General  Lannes  and  M.  Felice  —  Bonaparte  at  Paris  and  General 
Enthusiasm — Hatred  of  the  Directory  for  Bonaparte  —  Ball  at 
M.  de  Talleyrand's. 

THE    Army    of    Italy    surprised    us    every   day   by    the 
prodigies     communicated     in     its     bulletins.        The 
Directory,  which  disliked  General  Bonaparte,  would 
fain    have    thrown    a    veil    over    the    glory  of  the  young 
hero;  but  the    country,  which   he    had    saved    from  Aus- 
trian invasion,  the  soldiers,  whom  he  led  to  victory,  had 

*  Fargeon  was  a  celebrated  perfumer,  before  the  Revolution.  His 
son,  who  succeeded  him,  and  who  lives  in  the  Rue  de  Roule,  is  also 
eminent  in  the  same  line  of  business. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  147 

thousands  of  voices  to  proclaim  it,  and  the  only  resource 
left  to  the  ridiculous  Government  which  we  had  been 
silly  enough  to  give  ourselves,  was  to  injure  him  whom 
it  would  gladly  have  thrown  down  after  it  had  exalted 
him. 

My  brother  was  then  in  Italy;  he  had  repaired  to 
headquarters,  and  Bonaparte  had  been  most  kind  to  him : 
my  brother  had  carried  with  him  a  letter  of  recommen- 
dation from  Joseph  Bonaparte. 

(<  What  occasion  is  there  for  this  letter  ? w  said  the 
General.  (<  Whence  arises  so  great  a  distrust  of  your- 
self?" continued  he,  looking  more  seriously  at  Albert. 
My  brother  replied  that  the  slight  altercation  which  had 
occurred  between  him  and  my  mother  had  caused  him 
to  fear  that  the  General  would  bear  it  in  mind.  w  You 
are  mistaken, *  said  Bonaparte;  "that  scene  was  immedi- 
ately effaced  from  my  memory.  I  apprehend,  indeed, 
that  Madame  Permon  bears  a  much  stronger  grudge  on 
account  of  it  than  I  do;  and  that  is  but  natural,"  added 
he,  laughing ;  <(  those  who  are  in  the  wrong  are  sure  to 
be  most  angry." 

The  very  reverse  was  the  case  on  this  occasion,  for  it 
was  Bonaparte  who  never  forgot  that  unfortunate  alter- 
cation. More  than  ten  years  afterward  he  spoke  to  me 
on  the  subject  with  asperity.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  was 
very  kind  to  my  brother,  received  him  in  the  most  flatter- 
ing manner,  gave  him  all  the  support  he  could  expect, 
and  procured  for  him  a  very  good  appointment. 

While  General  Bonaparte  hurried  on  through  Italy  from 
victory  to  victory,  his  family  was  collecting  at  Paris,  and 
forming  a  colony  there.  Joseph  Bonaparte,  after  having 
been  Ambassador  of  the  French  Republic  at  Rome,  had 
returned  to  Paris,  bringing  with  him  his  wife's  sister, 
Mademoiselle  De'sire'e  Clary,  who  was  then  in  the  deepest 
mourning  for  the  tragical  death  of  the  brave  but  unfor- 
tunate Duphot,  who  had  been  murdered  at  Rome,  almost 
before  her  face,  at  the  moment  when  he  was  going  to 
marry  her.  Her  first  grief  had  abated  somewhat  of  its 
violence;  but  there  was  still  enough  left  to  excite  much 
pity.  Luckily,  she  was  yet  young,  and  very  agreeable. 

Lucien  announced  his  arrival.  He  had  just  obtained  a 
post  (I  know  not  where)  in  Germany,  and  he  was  passing 
through  Paris  to  see  his  family,  nearly  the  whole  of  which 


148  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

was  at  that  moment  assembled  there.  At  this  period  Lucien 
had  been  playing  a  silly  trick,  at  which  the  General-in- 
Chief,  who  now  considered  himself  as  the  head  of  the  fam- 
ily, was  excessively  mortified. 

Lucien  Bonaparte  is  a  man  who,  no  doubt,  has  been 
known  to  many  persons,  but  understood  by  few.  I  have 
known  him  long  and  intimately,  and  saw  him  as  he  was, 
without  restraint  or  formality.  He  was  endowed  by  Na- 
ture with  rare  talents;  his  mind  was  comprehensive;  his 
imagination  brilliant,  and  capable  of  grand  designs.  It 
has  been  said  that  he  was  a  man  whom  reason  did  not  al- 
ways influence  in  important  affairs ;  this,  however,  is  not 
true.  His  heart  was  kind,  and  although  sometimes  hur- 
ried away  by  his  passions,  no  serious  charge  can  be 
brought  against  him;  and  as  to  his  conduct  toward  his 
brother,  the  Emperor,  it  was  always  honorable. 

In  1794  or  1795  Lucien  obtained  the  appointment  of 
storekeeper  at  Saint  Maximin,  a  small  village  in  Provence. 
At  that  time  folly  was  the  order  of  the  day,  even  with 
the  wisest.  It  was  therefore  necessary  to  sacrifice  to  this 
mania  of  the  moment ;  not  that  I  mean  to  excuse  Lucien's 
folly  by  asserting  that  he  was  forced  into  it;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  am  of  opinion  that  he  acted  not  only  with  his 
own  free  will,  but  even  from  inclination,  when  he  assumed 
the  name  of  Brutus,  and  also  changed,  while  he  was  about 
it,  the  name  of  Saint  Maximin  into  Marathon.  Brutus  and 
Marathon  did  not  agree  over  and  above  well  together: 
but  the  names  were  high  sounding,  and  that  was  sufficient. 

The  village  of  Saint  Maximin-Marathon  is  not  a  mag- 
nificent residence.  Lucien- Brutus  soon  found  this  out, 
and  ennui  would  have  overpowered  him  had  not  love 
come  to  his  aid.  Lucien-Brutus  became  enamored, 
desperately  enamored,  of  Mademoiselle  Christine  Boyer, 
whose  father  was  at  the  head  of  the  little  public  house  of 
Saint  Marathon. 

Lucien  was  then  young,  about  twenty-three;  he  was  in 
love  for  the  first  time,  and  he  loved  an  angel  of  gentle- 
ness, virtue,  and  candor.  Christine  saw  herself  adored  by 
an  ardent,  hot-headed  young  man,  employing  against  her 
rustic  simplicity  all  the  stratagems,  all  the  resources,  with 
which  his  short  experience  of  the  world  had  made  him 
acquainted,  and  which  his  love  taught  him  to  use  skill- 
fully; and  Christine  was  not  proof  against  such  an  attack. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  149 

She  loved  as  she  was  loved,  but  she  forgot  not  her  duty, 
and  Lucien  was  obliged  to  marry  her  in  order  to  be 
happy;  he  loved  her  too  fondly  to  think  of  all  the  un- 
pleasant feelings  which  this  alliance  was  likely  to  excite 
in  his  own  family.  In  fact,  no  sooner  was  General  Bona- 
parte apprised  of  this  marriage  than  he  declared  that  he 
would  never  recognize  the  wife,  and  never  meet  his 
brother  again.  A  post  was  then  given  to  Lucien  in 
Germany,  and  the  young  couple  came  to  Paris  for  a  short 
time. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  I  saw  Lucien  Bonaparte  for 
the  first  time,  and  that  I  became  acquainted  with  Chris- 
tine. There  are  women  whose  portraits  it  is  easy  to 
sketch.  We  say  that  they  have  large  eyes,  beautiful 
hair,  a  complexion  blending  the  lily  and  the  rose,  and 
that  is  all.  But  is  it  only  on  account  of  her  person  that 
a  woman  is  to  be  valued  ?  Has  she  not  within  her  divine 
qualities  to  be  described  ?  a  profusion  of  kindness,  affec- 
tion, and  love  ?  All  these  were  to  be  found  in  the  heart 
of  the  excellent  Christine.  I  knew  her,  and  no  sooner 
knew  than  loved  her.  Subsequently,  when  surrounded 
by  the  touching  halo  of  maternal  love,  new  treasures  of 
tenderness  manifested  themselves  in  her,  and  constrained 
you  to  love  her  still  more. 

During  the  short  stay  of  Lucien  Bonaparte  and  his 
wife  in  Paris  they  made  an  excursion  to  Versailles,  and 
they  allowed  my  mother  no  peace  till  she  had  consented 
that  I  should  be  of  the  party.  As  I  had  never  seen  Ver- 
sailles, I  joined  my  solicitations  to  theirs  and  accom- 
panied them. 

I  cannot  describe  the  terrible  impression  which  this 
widowed  and  dismantled  Queen  produced  upon  me.  On 
beholding  those  immense  salons  stripped  and  deserted, 
those  dark  corridors,  and  apartments  still  covered  with 
gilding,  apparently  awaiting  some  stately  ceremony,  all 
seemed  to  me  so  dreary  and  desolate  that,  though  very 
young,  I  retained  so  vivid  an  impression  of  it,  that  when, 
in  1821,  I  went  to  reside  at  Versailles,  I  had  a  perfect 
recollection  of  the  feelings  produced  by  the  melancholy 
and  scandalous  neglect  of  the  residence  of  Louis  XIV.  I 
inquired  in  what  state  the  palace  was,  and  when  I  learned 
that  it  was  precisely  what  it  had  been  under  the  Direc- 
tory, I  did  not  care  to  enter  that  royal  habitation,  will- 


i5o  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

fully  forsaken  by  its  natural  guardians:  I  should  have 
suffered  much  more  from  witnessing-  its  forlorn  condition 
in  1821  than  I  had  done  in  1796.  The  garden  was  the 
only  object  of  my  walk. 

My  mother  had  a  great  affection  for  Lucien,  and  re- 
ceived him  as  his  mother  would  have  done.  Christine 
was  welcomed  by  her  with  equal  cordiality.  Joseph,  who 
had  then  returned  to  Paris,  and  whom,  in  fact,  each  of 
the  younger  brothers  considered  as  the  head  of  the  fam- 
ily, opened  his  arms  to  the  young  couple,  and  they  were 
happy.  A  few  days  afterward  they  set  out  for  Germany. 

Lucien  was  but  a  short  time  absent.  I  never  knew 
what  had  been  the  object  of  this  tour.  His  wife  had 
accompanied  him,  as  well  as  one  of  her  cousins,  named 
Boyer.  On  their  return  they  lodged  in  Rue  Verte,  in 
the  Faubourg  Saint  Honore".  Madame  Bacciochi  (Mari- 
anne Bonaparte)  also  lodged,  I  believe,  in  Rue  Verte. 
Madame  Leclerc,  who  had  recently  come  from  Milan, 
where  she  had  been  married,  took  a  house  in  Rue  de  la 
Ville-l'Eveque.  Louis  and  Jerome,  too  young  to  be  left 
alone,  were,  the  latter  at  the  College  of  Juilly,  and  the 
other  with  his  brother  Joseph.*  As  for  the  latter,  he 
had  bought  a  house  at  the  extremity  of  Rue  du  Rocher, 
almost  in  the  fields,  at  least  at  that  time.  Since  then 
so  many  buildings  have  been  erected  there,  as  every- 
where else,  that  the  site  of  Joseph's  house  is  now  almost 
in  the  heart  of  a  new  quarter. 

The  Treaty  of  Leoben  was  signed,  that  of  Campo- 
Formio  had  followed  it,  the  Congress  of  Rastadt  was  in 
preparation,  when  we  were  informed  that  General  Bona- 
parte would  soon  return  to  Paris.  My  mother  appeared 
to  wait  the  moment  with  extreme  impatience,  I  knew 
not  at  the  time  why,  but  I  afterward  learned  that  the 
reason  was  as  follows:  My  brother  was  agent  for  the 
contributions  at  Massa-Carrara,  and  had  for  his  colleague 
M.  Gabriel  Suchet,  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Albufera. 
He  is  a  kind,  excellent  man,  a  cordial  friend  of  Albert, 
and  became  ours  too. 

My  brother  lodged  at  the  house  of  a  Monsieur  Felice, 
whose  wife  was  a  charming  woman.  General  Lannes, 

*And  with  his  sister-in-law  Madame  Bonaparte,  Rue  Chantereine. 
He  lived  with  both  of  them  by  turns.  It  was  about  this  time  that 
Josephine  began  to  think  of  marrying  Hortense. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  151 

whose  division  was  near  Massa,  if  not  at  that  place,  had 
remarked,  as  my  brother  also  had  done,  that  Madame 
Felice  was  handsome,  and  that  it  was  not  impossible  to 
please  her;  he  therefore  took  measures  to  insure  success. 
But  the  future  Duke  of  Montebello  stormed  a  town  more 
easily  than  a  woman  —  even  an  Italian. 

Albert  played  delightfully  on  the  harp,  sang  likewise, 
spoke  and  wrote  Italian  as  fluently  as  French,  and  made 
sonnets  and  canzoni  on  Madame  Felice,  not  quite  equal 
to  Petrarch,  and  yet  so  good  as  to  cause  the  heart  of  his 
fair  landlady  to  surrender  quietly  at  discretion;  while 
General  Lannes,  who  was  also  well  aware  that  it  was 
necessary  to  form  a  plan  of  attack,  thought  to  play  off 
the  most  irresistible  of  seductions  by  relating  his  battles 
and  his  victories;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  this  might  have 
been  more  than  enough  to  win  a  heart  that  was  free, 
but  Madame  Felice's  had  struck  its  colors  to  all  the  ac- 
complishments of  Albert,  and  had  surrendered  more 
especially  to  his  love,  for  my  poor  brother's  head  was 
completely  turned.  At  length  one  day  the  lovers  per- 
suaded themselves  that  they  could  not  live  any  longer 
annoyed  in  this  way;  on  the  one  hand  by  a  jealous  and 
rejected  swain,  and  on  the  other  by  an  Italian  husband, 
whose  character  was  so  ill-regulated  that  it  displeased 
him  to  find  his  wife  fond  of  any  other  man  than  himself. 
The  result  of  this  cogent  reasoning  was,  that  they  took 
post  and  left  Massa,  trusting  to  love  for  the  consequences 
of  that  measure. 

Next  morning,  when  the  forsaken  husband  discovered 
his  forlorn  condition,  he  began  to  weep,  and  ran  to  ac- 
quaint General  Lannes  with  his  mishap.  On  hearing  it 
the  General  gave  such  a  bound  in  his  bed  as  had  well- 
nigh  knocked  off  the  canopy.  "Gone!  »  he  cried —"gone ! 
And  together,  say  you  ?  »  <(  Si,  signor  Generate. »  «  And 
which  way  are  they  gone  ?  w  tt  Ah,  General !  how  can  I 
possibly  know  that?"  *  Eh,  parbleu!*  replied  General 
Lannes,  leaping  out  of  bed,  and  slipping  on  his  panta- 
loons, at  the  same  time  eyeing  Felice  with  looks  of  fury. 
"  Blockhead  that  you  are,  go  and  find  out  what  road  they 
have  taken !  w 

The  poor  husband  sallied  forth  to  make  inquiries,  and 
learned  without  much  trouble  that  the  fugitives  had  di- 
rected their  course  toward  Leghorn.  As  soon  as  he  had 


152  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

communicated  this  information  to  General  Lannes, 
"  Come  along! J>  cried  he;  <(to  horse  —  to  horse!  Morbleu! 
we  shall  catch  them  in  a  couple  of  hours.  You  shall 
shut  up  your  wife;  and  as  for  this  Corydon  of  a  French- 
man, who  has  the  impudence  to  run  away  with  OUR 
wives,  I'll  get  him  removed.  Come  along,  Felice  —  come 
along,  my  friend!  Take  heart.  What  the  devil  ails 
you  ?  You  are  as  pale  as  a  sheet  of  parchment. w  w  Yes, 
General;  many  thanks.  I  WILL  take  heart.* 

While  giving  this  assurance  that  he  would  TAKE  HEART, 
his  teeth  chattered  like  castanets,  as  General  Lannes 
himself  afterward  told  me.  The  fact  is,  that  the  poor 
fellow  had  no  stomach  for  fighting  my  brother,*  and  that 
the  General  had  frightened  him  out  of  his  wits  by  ask- 
ing what  weapon  he  would  take  with  him.  At  any  rate, 
the  scoundrel  would  have  done  better  to  fight  than  act 
as  he  did  afterward.  General  Lannes  took  the  command 
of  the  party,  and  the  husband,  with  his  brother-in-law,  a 
cousin,  and  I  know  not  how  many  more,  marched  off 
under  the  protection  of  the  banner  of  General  Lannes. 
*Ah,  cugino  Pasquale! "  said  Felice  to  a  little  cousin  — 
(<Ah,  cousin  Pasqual!  what  a  friend,  what  a  brave  Gen- 
eral, and  what  a  charming  man ! w 

The  fugitives  were  overtaken  about  midday.  The 
stray  sheep  was  carried  back  to  her  fold,  and  inhumanly 
separated  from  her  companion.  I  believe  that  my  brother 
returned  to  Carrara,  and  that  Madame  Felice  was  re- 
moved to  another  town.  Thus  far  the  affair  had  been 
gay  enough;  but  now  this  Monsieur  Felice,  impelled  by 
some  demon  or  other,  preferred  a  criminal  complaint 
against  poor  Albert.  It  was  this  affair,  of  which  I  was 
then  ignorant,  though  my  mother  knew  of  it,  that  tor- 
mented her  exceedingly.  She  wished  to  know  if  General 
Bonaparte  had  any  accusatory  documents  relative  to  this 
charge.  My  mother  was  always  easily  affected,  and  any 
fears  which  she  might  reasonably  entertain  were  sure  to 
be  doubled  by  her  imagination. 

It  would  be  very  difficult  to  convey  even  a  slight  idea 
of  the  enthusiasm  with  which  Bonaparte  was  received 
when  he  arrived  at  Paris.  The  French  people  are  vola- 

*  My  brother  was  a  first-rate  swordsman ;  my  father,  a  pupil  of  Saint 
Georges,  had  been  his  master,  as  well  as  Fabien.  My  brother  possessed 
a  formidable  advantage  —  he  was  left-handed. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  153 

tile,  not  very  capable  of  constancy  in  their  affections, 
but  keenly  alive  to  the  sentiment  of  glory.  Give  them 
victories  and  they  will  be  more  than  content;  the,  will 
be  grateful. 

The  Directory,  like  all  authorities  that  are  too  weak 
and  impotent  to  produce  and  to  direct,  though  it  was 
called  the  EXECUTIVE  DIRECTORY,  regarded  with  jealousy, 
which  soon  became  hatred,  that  feeling  of  worship  and 
gratitude  manifested  by  the  French  people  for  their 
young  hero.  A  single  movement  seemed  to  set  in  action 
those  five  men,  not  one  of  whom  was  capable  of  com- 
prehending Bonaparte.  Incapacity,  corruption,  and  an 
unbounded  ambition,  under  a  Republican  exterior,  were 
the  elements  of  the  power  which  then  ruled  us,  and 
which  desired  no  glory  but  that  of  its  immediate  crea- 
tures. Bonaparte  had  emancipated  himself  since  he  had 
been  sent  to  Italy,  and  his  laurels  and  those  of  his  army 
were  PERSONAL  PROPERTY,  as  much  as  anything  can  legally 
be. 

Barras  left  him  unmolested  to  enjoy  his  renown ;  Mou- 
lins  dared  not  venture  to  call  to  mind  that  he  had  ever 
been  a  general  to  run  a  race  with  him  for  fame.  Roger- 
Ducos  thought  on  all  points  like  a  good-natured  man  as 
he  was;  and  Sieyes,  habitually  reserved,  as  everybody 
knows,  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  let  loose  his  tongue 
expressly  to  anathematize.  According  to  this  view  of 
things,  what  I  have  said  above  will  appear  rather  con- 
tradictory. But  to  proceed. 

On  this  occasion  one  of  the  five  Directors  governed 
singly  the  sentiments  of  the  other  four.  He  possessed, 
not  more  talent,  but  more  intelligence,  than  his  col- 
leagues, and  boundless  ambition,  though  he  declared  that 
he  had  none — a  mere  figure  of  speech,  to  which  nowa- 
days no  value  whatever  is  attached.  This  man  was  Gohier. 
At  this  period  we  had  every  day  the  bulletin  of  the  Di- 
rectorial interior,  because  M.  Brunetiere,  our  friend  and 
my  guardian,  was  equally  intimate  with  Gohier  and  visited 
him  daily. 

My  mother  sometimes  inquired  the  reason  of  his  aver- 
sion for  General  Bonaparte,  for,  in  regard  to  him,  she 
was  rather  amusing.  She  assumed  the  right  of  saying 
what  she  pleased  about  him,  but  she  did  not  like  others 
to  attack  him,  and  the  malicious  things  which  M.  Brune- 


154  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

tiere  heard  said  of  Bonaparte,  and  which  he  reported  to 
us  every  day,  roused  my  mother's  anger  against  him  and 
the  Directory,  which  she  cordially  detested. 

From  this  time  the  hatred  of  Gohier  for  Bonaparte 
displayed  itself  in  all  his  words  and  actions.  He  would 
have  patronized  to  his  prejudice  the  most  incapable  of 
men;  that  is  to  say,  a  recommendation  from  Bonaparte 
would  have  been  a  sufficient  reason  with  Gohier  for  exclud- 
ing the  person  so  recommended  from  an  appointment 
had  it  depended  on  him.  There  certainly  was  a  positive 
cause  of  this  hatred,  which  the  i8th  Brumaire  (Novem- 
ber 8th)  strengthened  and  rendered  implacable.  What 
was  it  ?  I  believe  simply  this :  Gohier  would  have 
thought  it  highly  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  France, 
and  more  particularly  to  his  own,  to  get  rid,  with  the 
aid  of  the  society  of  the  Manege,*  of  the  four  puppets 
associated  with  him  at  the  head  of  the  Government,  and 
to  make  himself  President,  not  of  the  Directory,  as  it 
was  on  the  i8th  Brumaire,  but  of  the  French  Republic. 
This  scheme  the  eagle  eye  of  Bonaparte  had  detected. 
He  had  most  probably  warned  Sieyes,  and  the  admirable 
subtlety  of  the  latter  had  foiled  the  plans  of  Washington 
the  younger.  Gohier  was  not  deficient  in  talent,  but 
that  talent,  which  might  have  some  merit  before  a  tri- 
bunal, was  reduced  to  a  cipher  in  the  extraordinary  situ- 
ation which  fortune  had  permitted  him  to  attain. 

One  may  now  venture  to  speak  out:  on  looking  at  the 
list  of  the  Directors  of  that  period,  if  we  except  Carnot, 
a  virtuous  man,  and  a  man  of  eminent  abilities,  and 
Sieyes,  who,  though  his  political  career  has  not  been 
quite  straightforward,  yet  possessed  merit,  what  were 
the  chiefs  who  steered  our  poor  vessel  ?  Gohier  felt, 
therefore,  that  he  was  superior  to  the  Directory  as  it 
was  composed  after  the  events  of  Fructidor;  and  thought 
that  he  might  seize  the  reins,  which  all  other  hands  had 
suffered  to  fall,  and  even  to  trail  in  the  dirt.  His  plan 
was  detected;  and  this  was  the  cause  of  his  violent  hatred 
of  Bonaparte.  The  reader  will  presently  be  convinced  of 

*  A  name  given  at  the  time  of  the  Directory  to  a  party  formed  out 
of  the  remains  of  the  Jacobins  who  were  accustomed  to  meet  in  the 
Riding  School  of  the  Tuileries;  hence  the  appellation  given  above. 
The  Sittings  were  discontinued  on  7th  Thermidor,  an  vii  (July  7th, 
1799)- 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  155 

this  when  I  relate  the  conversation  which  M.  Brunetiere 
had  with  Gohier  after  the  i8th  Brumaire. 

Had  Bonaparte's  vanity  been  ever  so  great,  it  must 
have  been  satisfied;  for  all  classes  joined,  as  I  have  said, 
to  give  him  a  cordial  welcome  on  his  return  to  his  coun- 
try. The  populace  shouted,  w  Long  live  General  Bona- 
parte! Long  live  the  conqueror  of  Italy,  the  pacificator 
of  Campo-Formio!"  The  shopkeepers  said,  « May  God 
preserve  him  for  our  glory,  and  deliver  us  from  the 
yoke  of  the  Directors  !w  The  higher  class,  UNGAGGED  and 
UNBASTILLED,  ran  with  enthusiasm  to  meet  a  young  man 
who  in  a  year  had  advanced  from  the  battle  of  Monte- 
notte  to  the  Treaty  of  Leoben,  and  from  victory  to  vic- 
tory. He  may  have  committed  errors,  and  even  grave 
ones,  since  that  time,  but  he  was  then  a  Colossus  of 
great  and  pure  glory. 

All  the  authorities  gave  him  magnificent  entertain- 
ments; the  Directory  exhibited  itself  in  all  its  burlesque 
pomp  of  mantles  and  hats  with  feathers,  which  rendered 
the  meeting  of  the  five  members  of  the  supreme  power 
sufficiently  ridiculous.  But  in  other  respects  the  f/tes 
were  fine,  and  they  had  in  particular  the  charm  attached 
to  things  which  are  supposed  to  be  lost,  and  which 
are  recovered.  Money  circulated,  and  the  result  of  all 
this  was  that  everybody  was  pleased. 

One  of  the  most  magnificent  entertainments,  and 
above  all  one  of  the  most  elegant,  was  that  given  by 
M.  de  Talleyrand  at  the  Foreign  Office.  He  always  dis- 
played admirable  skill  in  the  arrangements  of  the  enter- 
tainments which  he  gave;  indeed,  when  a  man  possesses 
good  sense  he  shows  it  in  everything  he  does.  He  then 
resided  at  the  Hotel  Galifet,  Rue  du  Bac,  and,  though 
the  rooms  were  small  for  the  company  assembled  there 
that  evening,  the  f$te  was  admirable.  All  the  most  ele- 
gant and  distinguished  people  then  in  Paris  were  there. 

My  mother  was  absolutely  bent  on  going.  She  was 
not  quite  well;  but  when  she  was  dressed  and  had  put 
on  a  little  rouge  she  looked  enchanting;  and  I  can  affirm 
that  I  saw  that  night  very  few  women  who  surpassed 
her  in  beauty.  We  were  both  dressed  alike,  in  a  robe 
of  white  crape  trimmed  with  two  broad  silver  rib- 
bons, and  on  the  head  a  garland  of  oak  leaves 
with  silver  acorns.  My  mother  had  diamonds  and 


156  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

I  pearls.  That  was  the  only  difference  between  our 
dresses. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  my  mother  was  walking 
through  the  rooms,  arm-in-arm  with  M.  de  Caulaincourt 
on  one  side  and  me  on  the  other,  when  we  found  our- 
selves face  to  face  with  General  Bonaparte.  My  mother 
saluted  him  and  passed  on,  when  the  General  advanced 
a  few  steps  and  spoke  to  her.  My  mother  was,  in  my 
opinion,  rather  too  dry:  her  ill-humor  was  not  yet  quite 
dispelled,  but  in  her  excellent  heart  there  was  nothing 
like  rancor.  It  was  the  reverse  with  the  General.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  he  appeared  to  look  at  my  mother  with 
admiration.  Indeed,  that  evening  in  particular  she  was 
truly  captivating. 

The  General  spoke  in  a  low  tone  for  some  seconds  to 
the  Turkish  Ambassador,  whom  he  held  by  the  arm. 
The  Turk  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  fixed  upon  my 
mother  his  large  eyes,  to  which,  when  he  chose,  he  could 
give  a  look  of  stupidity,  and  then  made  a  sort  of  obeisance. 
(<I  told  him  that  you  are  of  Greek  extraction, J)  said 
Bonaparte  to  my  mother,  saluting  her  by  way  of  adieu. 
Then,  holding  out  his  hand,  he  pressed  hers  in  a  friendly 
manner,  and  left  us  after  a  short  conversation,  which 
nevertheless  attracted  the  attention  of  the  company,  though 
it  lasted  but  a  few  minutes. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Illness  of  My  Mother  —  Domestic  Details  —  M.   de  Baudeloque  and  M. 
Sabatier  —  A  Treble  Fright. 

SHORTLY  before  the  i8th  Fructidor  *  I  was  exceedingly 
alarmed    on    account    of    the    state    of  my  mother's 
health.     She  was    attacked    by    a    disorder    which  is 
dangerous  at  any  age.  but  particularly  so  at  her  time  of 
life.     M.    Sabatier,    M.    Pelletan,    and    Baudeloque    came 
all    three    to   see    her    almost  every  day  for  the  fifty-two 
days  that  the  danger  lasted. 

My  affection    for  her  gave    me    preternatural  strength. 
Such  an  instance  was  never  heard  of  as  that  of  a  girl  of 

*  September  4th,  1797. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  157 

fourteen  being  able  to  go  through  the  watching,  fatigues, 
and  alarms  of  fifty-two  successive  nights.  The  three 
skillful  physicians  whom  I  have  just  named  could  not 
believe  it,  though  they  were  daily  witnesses  of  it.  For  a 
moment  I  was  afraid  I  should  not  have  strength  to  sup- 
port the  burden.  I  was  alone;  my  brother  was  still  in 
Italy.  I  saw  my  mother  turn  her  languid  eyes  to  me, 
and  the  agonizing  expression  which  momentarily  animated 
them  indicated  but  too  plainly  how  keen  a  sense  she  had 
of  her  situation.  Her  daughter  was  likely  to  be  left  an 
orphan,  and  alone!  I  had  written  to  my  brother,  but 
had  not  received  any  answer.  Every  now  and  then  my 
mother  called  to  me  in  a  faint  voice  to  ask  if  letters  had 
not  arrived  from  Italy.  I  was  obliged  to  answer  in  the 
negative,  and  I  perceived  that  this  reply  distressed  her 
exceedingly.  All  the  agony  of  mind  and  body  that  nature 
is  capable  of  enduring  was  felt  by  my  poor  mother. 

We  had  many  friends;  I  have  no  doubt  that  until  my 
brother's  arrival  a  dozen  houses  would  have  received  me ; 
but,  I  repeat  it,  the  thought  never  entered  my  mind. 
When  I  saw  my  mother  so  ill  as  to  be  unable  to  leave 
her  bed,  my  grief  was  at  first  violent;  but  when  the 
symptoms  of  her  painful  disease  became  so  aggravated 
as  to  threaten  her  life,  my  despair  overpowered  me  to 
such  a  degree  that  I  had  no  energy  and  presence  of 
mind  beyond  what  was  requisite  to  make  me  the  most 
intelligent  of  nurses. 

I  could  not  bear  my  mother  to  take  a  spoonful  of 
medicine  or  a  basin  of  gruel  from  any  hand  but  mine. 
She  had  an  Alsatian  femme  de  chambrc,  who  was  an  ex- 
cellent creature,  and  exceedingly  attached  to  her.  She 
was  a  clever  nurse.  But  I  was  not  satisfied  with  her 
attendance,  though  I  could  rely  upon  her.  I  could  not 
sleep  if  I  left  her  alone  with  my  mother.  If  I  lay  down 
for  a  few  hours  anxiety  kept  me  awake,  and  I  returned 
at  four  in  the  morning,  unable  to  finish  the  night  in  my 
bed. 

At  length  the  danger  became  so  imminent  that  the 
physicians  thought  it  no  longer  their  duty  to  conceal  the 
fact.  It  was,  however,  difficult  to  tell  a  girl  who  had  no 
other  support  but  her  mother  that  she  must  die !  Never- 
theless, I  heard  this  sentence,  and  I  had  strength  to  ask 
if  there  was  nothing  at  all  that  could  save  her.  <(  Nature 


158  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

and  incessant  attention,  not  only  every  minute,  but  every 
moment,  may  do  much,"  replied  Baudeloque;  <(  and  there- 
fore you  must  eat  and  sleep,  that  you  may  have  strength.  * 

Sabatier  was  the  one  who  understood  me  best.  He  did 
not  say  to  me,  w  eat  and  sleep, w  but  he  almost  forced  me 
to  bathe  two  or  three  times  a  week.  He  recommended 
to  me  a  generous  and  strengthening  regimen,  and  he 
studied  in  particular  to  calm  my  poor  head,  which  was 
no  longer  capable  of  bearing  the  weight  of  so  many 
anxieties.*  My  poor  mother  was  saved.  The  unceasing 
attentions  paid  to  her  at  length  triumphed  over  a  dis- 
ease which  the  whole  faculty  of  Paris  pronounced  mortal. 

On  the  day  that  hope  was  restored  to  me  a  singular 
circumstance  occurred.  It  was  noon  when  the  physicians 
informed  me  that  my  mother  was  out  of  danger.  I  wrote 
immediately  to  my  brother,  who  was  then  in  Italy ;  I  was 
mad  with  joy.  I  could  not  take  any  rest  either  in  the 
morning  or  during  the  remainder  of  the  day.  In  vain 
my  mother  begged  me  to  go  and  lie  down.  (<  To-night  I 
will,"  was  my  invariable  reply. 

At  length,  when  the  beloved  patient  was  properly 
wrapped  up  for  the  night,  when  she  had  taken  her  meat 
jelly,  and  her  drawn  curtains  admitted  only  the  faint 
light  of  a  night  lamp,  when  I  had  kissed  her  brow,  pale 
and  cold  as  marble,  and  received  her  blessing,  I  retired 
to  my  little  chamber,  and  prepared  to  go  to  bed  for  the 
first  time  for  nearly  two  months,  after  thanking  God  with 
a  grateful  and  deeply-affected  heart.  I  lay  down.  No 
sooner  was  my  head  upon  my  pillow  than  I  was  over- 
powered with  a  stupor  rather  than  real  sleep;  I  was  in  a 
kind  of  lethargy;  not  even  a  dream  disturbed  this  state 
of  complete  quietude.  I  know  not  whether  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  conveying  an  idea  of  what  I  then  experienced; 
but  the  reader  may  judge  how  violent  the  shock  must 
have  been  which  I  received  when  I  felt  myself  shaken 
by  the  arm,  and  heard  a  tremulous  voice  stammering  in 
my  ear :  w  Mademoiselle !  mademoiselle !  ah,  mon  Dieu ! 
mon  Dieu  !  MADAME  —  MADAME  HAS  JUST  EXPIRED  IN  MY 
ARMS!  B 

*I  shall  never  forget  his  kind  attentions;  and  when,  thirty  years 
afterward,  his  daughter  became  my  niece,  I  could  not  help  expressing, 
though  very  briefly,  my  attachment  to  her  father.  A  longer  phrase 
than  that  which  I  used  would  have  been  in  bad  taste. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  159 

I  shrieked,  and  instantly  was  as  wide  awake  as  at  the 
same  hour  the  preceding  night.  I  pushed  aside  the 
trembling  Josephine,  flew  to  my  mother's  room,  drew 
back  with  violence  the  curtains  of  her  bed,  threw  myself 
upon  her,  called  her,  and  my  poor  mother  was  awakened 
by  me  as  I  had  myself  been  by  Josephine.  She  had 
been  fast  asleep! 

My  mother  was  beginning  to  recover  from  an  illness 
which  did  not  leave  her,  I  verily  believe,  above  four 
ounces  of  blood  in  her  veins.  Her  paleness,  her  emacia- 
tion, were  truly  frightful:  she  was  naturally  extremely 
fair,  and  her  complexion  was  now  of  an  alabaster  white- 
ness, without  the  slightest  rosy  tinge.  Lying  thus  be- 
tween the  white  sheets,  her  face  surrounded  by  cambric, 
the  reflection  of  which  added  to  her  paleness,  my  poor 
mother  had,  indeed,  a  look  that  was  rather  alarming  to 
any  but  her  own  child. 

My  poor  mother  trembled  for  above  an  hour  with  the 
fright  which  I  had  given  her  on  entering  her  chamber. 
At  length,  toward  morning  she  fell  asleep  again.  As 
for  me,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  how  I  finished  the  night. 
I  would  not  return  to  my  bed,  but  placed  myself  in  a 
large  easy-chair,  which  habitually  served  me  to  sleep  in; 
and  there,  though  more  composed,  I  could  not  get  so 
much  as  an  hour's  nap.  The  shock  had  had  such  an 
effect  upon  me  that  Sabatier  and  Pelletan  declared  I  had 
narrowly  escaped  two  calamities,  which  might  have  been 
the  consequence  of  Josephine's  indiscretion  —  epilepsy  and 
death. 


160  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Portrait  of  Marshal  Augereau  —  Consequences  of  the  i8th  Fructidor 
and  Deportations  —  Cruelty  of  the  Directory  —  Bonaparte  the  Author 
of  the  i8th  Fructidor  —  Joseph  Bonaparte  in  the  Five  Hundred  — 
Madame  Joseph  —  Mademoiselle  Clary,  Queen  of  Sweden  —  Berna- 
dotte's  Marriage  —  Portrait  of  Joseph  Bonaparte  —  The  Bonaparte 
Family — Bonaparte  in  Paris  —  Preparations  for  the  Expedition  to 
Egypt  —  Portrait  of  Louis  Bonaparte  —  Portrait  of  Lucien  —  Bona- 
parte Makes  Himself  Head  of  the  Family  —  Arrival  of  His  Mother 
and  Sister  Caroline  at  Paris  —  Portrait  of  Caroline  Bonaparte  — 
Madame  Bacciochi  —  Madame  Leclerc  and  Paulette. 

AT  LENGTH  came  that  terrible  day,  the  4th  of  September. 
I  call  it  TERRIBLE,  because  the  establishment  of  a 
republic  in  France,  such  as  the  fond  dreams  of  our 
hearts  represent  it,  may  be  impracticable,  but  still  we 
had  one  of  some  kind  even  in  the  Directory.  After  the 
institution  of  this  dictatorship,  or  of  this  royalty  in  five 
volumes,  tatters  of  this  republic  had  daily  fallen  under 
the  blows  of  the  Directory  itself  and  the  anarchists;  at 
any  rate,  some  part  of  it  was  yet  left.  This  solemn  day 
utterly  destroyed  it.  The  republic,  whose  foundations 
had  been  cemented  by  the  pure  and  glorious  blood  of 
the  martyrs  of  the  Gironde,  had  vanished,  was  dispelled 
like  a  dream;  the  blood  of  the  victims  alone  had  left 
reprobatory  recollections. 

The  conduct  of  the  Directory  on  this  occasion  displayed 
ability.  That  body  acted  at  first  with  a  cunning,  and 
afterward  with  a  boldness,  worthy  of  a  better  cause.  In 
fact  the  army  of  Italy  exercised  over  us,  even  already, 
some  of  the  ascendency  to  which  we  bowed  at  a  later 
period;  and  General  Augereau  did  but  execute  prescribed 
and  circumstantial  orders.  He  was  a  man  who  might 
possess  that  daring  spirit  which  hurries  along  thousands 
of  soldiers  in  its  train,  but,  for  directing  a  political 
movement,  for  organizing  the  simplest  machination,  he 
was  a  mere  cipher.  Not  only  was  he  a  soldier,  but  his 
manners  were  those  of  a  soldier;  everything  about  him 
betrayed  the  uneducated  man.  His  vanity  was,  never- 
theless, inordinate. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  161 

We  met  him  sometimes  at  a  house  where  my  mother 
visited  a  good  deal,  that  of  M.  Saint  Sardos.  I  confess 
that  his  manner  not  only  excited  in  me  that  disgust  which 
must  be  felt  by  a  young  girl  accustomed  to  see  none  but 
well-bred  people,  but  there  was  superadded  the  jealousy 
which  I  experienced  as  a  warm  admirer  of  General  Bona- 
parte on  account  of  his  campaigns  in  Italy;  it  put  me 
out  of  temper  to  think  that  this  booby,  as  I  called  him, 
should  presume  in  his  pride  to  dispute  the  palm  of  glory 
with  Bonaparte.  My  mother,  who  was  not  always  of  my 
way  of  thinking  relative  to  Bonaparte,  agreed  with  me  on 
this  subject. 

As  to  the  conseqences  of  that  cruel  day,  they  were  such 
as  might  have  been  expected.  The  Directory  triumphed 
as  it  had  fought,  in  a  cowardly  and  barbarous  manner. 
It  was  well  aware  that  royalty  had  been  called  for,  not 
so  much  out  of  love  to  the  royal  family,  as  out  of 
hatred  to  itself ;  the  Directory  knew  this  and  took  a  base 
revenge. 

The  consequences  of  the  4th  of  September  gave  us  cause 
for  deep  regret  in  the  proscription  and  exile  of  several 
of  our  friends.  During  many  days  we  dared  scarcely  in- 
quire about  persons  for  whom  we  felt  an  interest,  and  a 
new  terror,  as  it  were,  reigned  in  Paris.  Almost  every 
family  mourned  a  relative  or  a  friend.  My  mother  was 
greatly  distressed,  and  both  her  opinions  and  her  affections 
were  wounded. 

The  signal  for  the  events  of  the  4th  of  September  came 
from  Italy;  it  was  the  hand  of  Bonaparte  that  gave 
it;  he  was  determined  to  crush  the  Royalist  party  in  the 
assembly.  The  Clichyans,  by  refusing  Joseph  (and  I  be- 
lieve Lucien),  had  incensed  him;  and  from  that  moment 
Junot  told  me,  he  swore  that  the  men  of  the  guilty  party, 
as  he  called  it,  should  not  see  the  close  of  the  year  while 
on  their  curule  chairs. 

After  the  departure  of  the  unfortunate  prescripts,  Joseph 
Bonaparte  was  nominated  deputy  of  the  Liamone  to  the 
Council  of  Five  Hundred.  He  then  completed  the  fitting- 
up  of  his  pretty  house  in  the  Rue  du  Rocher,  and  pre- 
pared to  receive  company.  He  was  expecting  his  mother 
and  his  youngest  sister  Caroline.  Mademoiselle  De'sire'e 
Clary  had  just  married  Bernadotte.  We  were  at  the 
wedding,  which  took  place  in  a  very  plain  manner  in 


162  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

Joseph's  house.  Mademoiselle  Clary  was  rich,  and  ex- 
tremely pleasing  in  person  and  manners ;  Bernadotte  made 
a  very  good  match. 

Of  all  Bonaparte's  brothers  none  have  been  so  mis- 
represented, and  that  generally,  as  Joseph.  I  have  read 
a  multitude  of  memoirs,  and  everywhere  found  a  carica- 
ture, by  which  he  has  been  judged,  substituted  for  his 
real  aspect.  Joseph,  moreover,  is  not  the  only  one  of  the 
family  that  I  shall  replace  in  his  proper  light;  and  this 
I  can  do  with  the  greater  facility,  because  all  its  mem- 
bers are  as  well  known  to  me  as  my  own  relations,  in 
consequence  of  an  intimate  association  of  many  years, 
and  at  a  less  exalted  period  of  their  lives. 

My  brother  was  particularly  intimate  with  Joseph.  I 
know  not  when  this  friendship  commenced ;  but  I  believe 
that  it  was  at  the  time  when  my  brother,  in  order  to 
escape  the  requisition,  was  at  Marseilles  and  Toulon  with 
Salicetti. 

Joseph  Bonaparte  is  one  of  the  most  excellent  men 
that  can  be  met  with.  He  is  good-natured,  intelligent, 
a  student  of  French  and  Italian  literature,  and  unaffectedly 
fond  of  retirement.  Much  has  been  said,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose, relative  to  the  weak  conduct  of  Joseph  at  Naples 
and  in  Spain.  I  know  not  what  he  did,  or  what  he  could 
have  done  at  Naples;  but  this  I  know,  that  in  Spain  he 
could  do  no  better,  because  he  went  there  against  his 
inclination,  and  it  distressed  him  exceedingly  to  be  obliged 
to  go  to  that  unhappy  country,  filled  with  troubles  and 
discussions,  where  the  dagger  or  the  blunderbuss  threaten 
you  every  moment  —  a  country  where  all  the  good  that 
he  did,  and  I  am  certain  that  he  did  a  great  deal,  was 
accounted  only  as  a  duty  performed.  No,  no;  the  man 
who  has  been  good,  honorable,  virtuous,  for  a  series  of 
years  does  not  change  at  once  and  become  cowardly, 
and  even  wicked. 

Joseph  is  handsome,  very  like  the  Princess  Pauline. 
They  have  both  the  same  delicate  features,  the  same 
winning  smile,  the  same  kind  look.  Joseph  has  always 
been  a  great  favorite  with  our  family.  At  Montpellier, 
after  his  father  had  breathed  his  last  in  my  mother's 
arms,  Joseph  came  to  live  with  his  uncle  Fesch  in  the 
house  of  my  parents.  I  mention  this  because  Joseph 
never  forgot  it;  on  the  contrary,  he  always  tendered  me 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  163 

his  hand  to  testify  his  gratitude  for  what  my  mother  had 
done  for  him. 

Madame  Joseph  Bonaparte  is  an  angel  of  goodness. 
Pronounce  her  name,  and  all  the  indigent,  all  the  un- 
fortunate in  Paris,  Naples,  and  Madrid,  will  repeat  it 
with  blessings;  yet  she  was  never  at  Madrid,  and  knew 
nothing  of  that  foreign  land  but  from  the  accounts  of  it 
that  were  given  to  her.  Never  did  she  hesitate  a 
moment  to  set  about  what  she  conceived  to  be  her  duty. 
Accordingly,  Madame  de  Survilliers  *  is  adored  by  all  about 
her,  and  especially  by  her  own  household;  her  unalter- 
able kindness,  her  active  charity,  gain  her  the  love  of 
everybody,  and  in  the  land  of  exile  she  has  found  a 
second  native  country. 

She  was  fondly  attached  to  her  sister,  the  Queen  of 
Sweden.  The  latter  is  an  inoffensive,  and  in  my  opinion 
an  excellent,  creature ;  but  she  has  one  defect  which  her 
present  situation  renders  almost  a  vice  —  she  is  a  mere 
cipher.  Her  character  has  no  color.  Nay,  more,  she 
may  easily  be  persuaded  to  do  any  person  an  ill  turn, 
merely  because  she  is  not  aware  of  the  drift  of  the  pro- 
cedure. The  Queen  of  Sweden  was  prodigiously  fond  of 
everything  that  was  melancholy  and  ROMANTIC. 

When  she  married  Bernadotte  she  had  a  face  of  which 
I  shall  say  nothing,  because  we  were  then  thought  to  be 
exceedingly  like  each  other.  She  had  very  fine  eyes,  and 
a  most  pleasing  smile.  Lastly,  she  had  not  too  much 
embonpoint  as  at  the  time  of  her  departure  for  Sweden, 
and  she  was  altogether  a  very  agreeable  person.  She 
was  fond  of  her  husband,  which  was  natural  enough; 
but  that  fondness  became  a  downright  annoyance  to  the 
poor  Bearnese,  who,  having  nothing  of  a  hero  of  ro- 
mance in  his  composition,  was  sometimes  extremely  per- 
plexed by  the  part.  She  was  continually  in  tears  when 
he  had  gone  out  because  he  was  absent;  when  he  was 
going  out,  more  tears;  and  when  he  came  home  she  still 
wept  because  he  would  have  to  go  away  again,  perhaps 
in  a  week,  but  at  any  rate  he  would  have  to  go. 

Louis  Bonaparte  was  engaging  at  eighteen,  subse- 
quently his  infirmities  gave  him  the  appearance  of  an  old 
man  before  his  time;  this  rendered  him  morose  in 

*The  name  afterward  assumed  by  King  Joseph.  The  Queen  also 
used  it  in  Germany,  where  she  then  resided. 


164  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

appearance,  and  miserable  in  reality.  He  resembled  the 
Queen  of  Naples  when  he  was  young  and  in  health; 
there  was  the  same  cast  of  countenance,  and  the  same 
expression  when  the  features  of  the  Queen  of  Naples 
were  at  rest;  but  as  soon  as  they  were  animated  by  her 
smile  or  her  look  all  resemblance  vanished. 

Louis  is  a  mild,  easy,  good-natured  man.  The  Em- 
peror, with  his  whim  of  making  kings  of  all  his  brothers, 
could  not  find  one  who  would  fall  in  with  it.  His  sisters, 
on  the  contrary,  seconded  him,  for  they  were  devoured 
by  ambition;  but  on  this  point  the  men  have  always 
shown  a  firm  and  determined  will.  Louis  told  him  as 
much  when  he  was  setting  out  for  Holland.  <(  I  will  do 
what  I  like, w  said  the  young  King  to  his  brother.  <(  Let 
me  act  freely,  or  let  me  remain  here.  I  will  not  go  to 
govern  a  country  where  I  shall  be  known  only  by  disas- 
ter.0 

The  Emperor  was  inflexible  in  his  will.  He  sent 
Louis  to  Holland;  the  unfortunate  young  man  went  to 
experience  a  slow  and  cruel  agony  among  its  canals  and 
marshes.  The  greater  part  of  his  present  ailments  pro- 
ceed from  that  damp  atmosphere,  particularly  unhealthy 
for  a  child  of  the  South  like  him.  He  obeyed,  and  his 
wife  was  destined  there  to  feel  the  keenest  anguish  — 
her  maternal  heart  was  wrung  by  the  death  of  her  first- 
born.* 

Lucien  and  his  wife  arrived  at  Paris  at  the  same  time, 
I  believe,  as  did  Madame  Laetitia  and  Caroline  Bona- 
parte. The  General  came  to  Paris,  and  afterward  set 
out  again  for  Toulon.  The  Egyptian  expedition  was  in 
preparation.  Applications  from  all  quarters  poured  in 
from  young  men,  who,  in  ignorance  of  its  destination, 
but  hoping  that  it  might  be  for  Constantinople  or  Eng- 
land, enrolled  themselves  in  crowds. 

At  the  period  I  am  speaking  of  (that  is,  in  1797), 
Lucien  might  be  about  twenty-two  years  of  age ;  he  was 
tall,  ill-shaped,  having  limbs  like  those  of  the  field 
spider,  and  a  small  head,  which,  with  his  tall  stature, 
would  have  made  him  unlike  his  brothers  had  not  his 
physiognomy  attested  their  common  parentage.  Lucien 
was  very  near-sighted,  which  made  him  half  shut  his 

*The  eldest  of  the  children  of  Louis  and  Hortense  Beauharnais  died 
of  croup,  at  the  Hague,  in  1804. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  165 

eyes  and  stoop  his  head.  This  defect  would  have  given 
him  an  unpleasing  air  if  his  smile,  always  in  harmony 
with  his  features,  had  not  imparted  something  agreeable 
to  his  countenance.  Thus,  though  he  was  rather  plain, 
he  pleased  generally.  He  had  very  remarkable  success 
with  women  who  were  themselves  very  remarkable,  and 
that  long  before  his  brother  arrived  at  power.  With 
respect  to  understanding  and  talent,  Lucien  always  dis- 
played abundance  of  both. 

In  early  youth,  when  he  met  with  a  subject  that  he 
liked  he  identified  himself  with  it;  he  lived  at  that  time 
in  an  ideal  world.  Thus,  at  eighteen,  the  perusal  of 
Plutarch  carried  him  into  the  Forum  and  the  Piraeus. 
He  was  a  Greek  with  Demosthenes,  a  Roman  with  Cicero; 
he  espoused  all  the  ancient  glories,  but  he  was  intoxicated 
with  those  of  our  own  time.  Those  who,  because  they 
had  no  conception  of  this  enthusiasm,  alleged  that  he 
was  jealous  of  his  brother,  have  asserted  a  willful  false- 
hood, if  they  have  not  fallen  into  a  most  egregious  error. 
This  is  a  truth  for  which  I  can  pledge  myself.  But  I 
would  not  with  equal  confidence  assert  the  soundness  of 
Ms  judgment  at  this  same  period,  when  Bonaparte,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-five,  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  temple 
which  he  dedicated  to  his  immortality. 

Not  naturally  disposed,  by  the  grandeur  of  his  genius, 
to  view  things  in  a  fantastic  light,  and  attaching  himself 
solely  to  their  reality,  Bonaparte  proceeded  direct  to  the 
goal  with  a  firm  and  steady  step.  He  had  in  conse- 
quence the  meanest  idea  of  those  who  kept  traveling  on, 
as  he  expressed  it,  in  the  kingdom  of  fools.  From  this 
rigorous  manner  of  judging  persons  of  ardent  imagi- 
nations, it  may  be  supposed  that  Lucien  was  smartly 
reprimanded  whenever  he  addressed  to  him  any  of  the 
philippics  or  catilinaria  of  the  young  Roman.  Napoleon 
forgot  that  he  himself,  a  few  years  before,  while  still 
in  Corsica,  had  given  proof  of  equally  violent  exal- 
tation. 

Madame  Lucien  was  tall,  well-shaped,  slender,  and  had 
in  her  figure  and  carriage  that  native  grace  and  ease 
which  are  imparted  by  the  air  and  sky  of  the  South ;  her 
complexion  was  dark,  and  she  was  pitted  with  the  small- 
pox; her  eyes  were  not  large,  and  her  nose  was  rather 
broad  and  flat:  in  spite  of  all  this  she  was  pleasing, 


i66  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

because  her  look  was  kind,  her  smile  sweet,  as  well  as 
her  voice:  she  was  graceful,  in  short,  and  good  as  an 
angel.  Her  love  for  her  husband  rendered  her  quick  in 
adapting  herself  to  her  position;  in  a  few  weeks  she 
became  an  elegant  woman,  wearing  to  admiration  all 
that  issued  from  the  hands  of  Leroi,  Mademoiselle  Des- 
paux,  and  Madame  Germon. 

On  his  first  visit  to  Paris  Lucien  made  but  a  short 
stay  there ;  on  his  return  from  Germany  he  and  his  wife 
settled  in  Paris,  and  lived  at  this  period  in  Grande  Rue 
Verte,  Faubourg  Saint  Honore*. 

Madame  Bacciochi  resided,  like  Lucien,  in  the  Rue 
Verte.  Madame  Leclerc,  who  arrived  from  Italy  soon 
after  the  period  which  I  have  just  mentioned  as  that  of 
the  meeting  of  the  family,  took  a  house  in  the  Rue  de 
la  Ville-l'Eveque.  We  formed,  of  course,  nearly  the 
center  of  the  Corsican  colony,  in  the  heart  of  Paris ;  thus, 
not  a  day  passed  on  which  some  of  the  brothers  or  sis- 
ters did  not  visit  us,  or  we  them. 

Caroline  Bonaparte,  who  was  called  Annunziata,  and 
who  came  with  her  mother  from  Marseilles,  was  then 
twelve  years  old.  Handsome  arms,  small  hands,  delight- 
ful in  form  and  whiteness,  small  well-turned  feet,  and  a 
brilliant  complexion  —  such  were  the  characteristics  of 
her  beauty,  with  the  addition  of  fine  teeth,  rosy  cheeks, 
very  fair  but  round  shoulders,  a  figure  rather  too 
robust,  and  a  manner  not  very  elegant.  Caroline  was  in 
other  respects  a  very  good  girl,  and  we  were  as  much 
together  as  my  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  Made- 
moiselle de  Perigord  and  Mademoiselle  de  Caseux  per- 
mitted. 

Caroline  was  placed  in  a  boarding  school  at  St.  Ger- 
main, with  Madame  Campan,  not  to  finish  her  education, 
for  it  had  not  even  been  begun.  Of  Madame  Leclerc 
we  saw  more  than  of  any  other  in  the  family.  She  came 
every  day  to  my  mother,  who  was  very  fond  of  her,  and 
petted  her  —  that  is  the  right  word — by  passing  over 
with  more  indulgence  than  her  mother  the  thousand  and 
one  whims  which  were  bred,  gratified,  and  abandoned  in 
a  day.  Many  people  have  extolled  the  beauty  of  Madame 
Leclerc;  this  is  known  from  portraits  and  even  statues 
of  her;  still,  it  is  impossible  to  form  any  idea  of  what 
this  lady,  truly  extraordinary  as  the  perfection  of  beauty, 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  167 

then  was,  because  she  was  not  generally  known  till  her 
return  from  St.  Domingo,  when  she  was  already  faded, 
nay  withered,  and  nothing  but  the  shadow  of  that 
exquisitely  beautiful  Paulette,  whom  we  sometimes 
admired  as  we  admire  a  fine  statue  of  Venus  or  Galatea. 
She  was  still  fresh  on  her  arrival  at  Paris  from  Milan; 
but  this  freshness  was  of  short  duration;  by  the  time 
she  had  lived  a  year  in  Paris  she  began  to  be  a  very 
different  person  from  the  Paulette  of  Milan. 

At  this  period  she  was  an  excellent  creature;  it  has 
been  said  since  that  she  was  malicious,  and  this  report 
has  been  spread  even  by  persons  of  her  household;  I 
know  not  whether  greatness  changed  her  disposition. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

Attention  of  Bonaparte  to  the  Establishment  of  His  Family  —  Amours 
of  Bonaparte,  and  a  Box  at  the  Feydeau  —  Coldness  between  My 
Mother  and  Bonaparte  —  Levity  of  Josephine  —  Marquis  de  Caulain- 
court  —  The  Two  Brothers,  Armand  and  Auguste —  Madame  de 
Thelusson  and  Madame  de  Mornay — Fashions—  Bonaparte  at  Paris 
—  Long  and  Interesting  Conversation  between  Bonaparte  and  My 
Brother  —  Projected  Expedition  —  Implacable  Hatred  against 
England. 

GENERAL  BONAPARTE  was  anxious  to  see  all  his  family 
comfortably  settled  at  Paris  before  he  left  Europe, 
but  knowing  that  the  Republican  generals  were 
charged  with  rapacity,  he  did  not  wish  his  family  to  live 
in  such  splendor  as  might  afford  cause  for  malicious  in- 
terpretations. Nothing  was  more  simple  than  the  style 
of  Joseph's  house,  though,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  re- 
spectably appointed.  Bonaparte  had  also  laid  down  rules 
for  the  guidance  of  Madame  Bonaparte's  conduct  in  this 
respect;  had  they  been  followed,  this  conquest  over 
Josephine's  spirit  of  dissipation  would  have  surpassed  the 
conquest  of  Egypt  which  he  was  about  to  undertake. 

General  Bonaparte,  though  younger  than  Joseph,  and 
though  his  mother  was  still  living,  assumed  from  this 
moment  the  ascendency  and  authority  of  a  father  and 
head  over  his  family.  The  instructions  which  he  left 


168  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

for  their  guidance  were  truly  remarkable,  and  surprised 
my  mother;  she  had  not  seen  him  at  her  house  since 
her  decided  quarrel  with  him  on  account  of  my  cousin 
Stephanopoli.*  Naturally  proud,  she  was  now  as  glad  to 
avoid  Bonaparte  as  a  few  years  before  she  had  been 
anxious  to  meet  him.  The  behavior  of  the  young  Gen- 
eral had  deeply  hurt  her,  and  the  indifference  which  he 
had  shown  in  excusing  himself  completely  incensed  her 
against  him;  but  subsequently  her  excellent  understand- 
ing made  allowances  for  all  that  might  then  have  occu- 
pied the  head  of  such  a  man.  Bonaparte  was  about  this 
time  as  fond  of  his  wife  as  his  nature  allowed  him  to 
be  when  his  faculties  were  wholly  devoted  to  the  vast 
projects  he  had  himself  conceived.  No  doubt  he  loved 
Josephine,  but  those  who  have  asserted  that  he  loved  her 
more  than  he  ever  did  any  other  woman,  have  not  fol- 
lowed him  through  his  early  life,  nor  discovered  him  in 
the  character  of  a  romantic  lover;  they  have  not  seen 
him  redden,  turn  pale,  tremble — nay,  even  weep.  At 
the  old  Feydeau  theater  there  was  a  box,  No.  n,  in  the 
first  tier,  which  knew  much  more  about  this  matter  than 
they  do. 

His  love  for  his  wife  was  not  of  the  same  nature. 
He  loved  her,  no  doubt,  but  without  making  of  her  one 
of  those  divinities  which  dazzle  the  acutest  understand- 
ing, and  prevent  it  from  perceiving  any  imperfection, 
moral  or  personal,  in  the  beloved  object.  Besides,  there 
was  a  counterpoise  in  the  gratitude  which,  more  partic- 
ularly about  the  time  of  his  return  from  Italy,  everyone 
said  that  Bonaparte  owed  to  his  wife. 

Madame  Bonaparte  showed  a  total  want  of  prudence, 
not  only  in  not  imposing  silence  on  those  who  spread 
this  report,  but  also  in  giving  it  weight  by  her  confi- 
dences to  a  host  of  flatterers,  and,  above  all,  of  intriguers, 
who  never  kept  the  secret  more  than  an  hour.  I  know 
that  Bonaparte  had  been  informed  of  the  AUTHORITY,  if 
I  may  be  allowed  the  term,  which  Madame  Bonaparte 
gave  to  the  absurd  report  which  the  enemies  of  Napo- 
leon, and  he  had  many  already,  circulated  respecting 
him.  It  may  easily  be  conceived  how  his  spirit  must 
have  been  wounded  when  he  saw  himself  the  object  of 

*  He  died  at  Neuilly,  in  consequence  of  having  cut  a  corn  on  his 
foot 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  169 

a  contemptuous  look,  when  he  heard  the  expression:  "It 
is  his  wife's  influence  that  upholds  him. M  This  was  false 
and  ridiculous,  but  it  was  said,  and  whoever  knew  Bona- 
parte well  must  be  aware  that  nothing  more  was  required 
to  produce  an  extraordinary  effect  upon  him. 

Bonaparte  was  acquainted  with  the  indiscretion  of  his 
wife;  accordingly,  he  recommended  her  to  abstain  above 
all  things  from  talking  about  politics  —  a  subject  which 
she  knew  nothing  of,  and  which  could  not  fail  to  lead 
to  conversations  liable  to  compromise  him.  "  What  you 
say  is  supposed  to  come  from  me,"  he  would  frequently 
observe  to  her;  "keep  silence,  and  then  my  enemies, 
and  you  are  surrounded  by  them,  will  not  have  it  in 
their  power  to  draw  silly  inferences  from  your  words." 

My  mother  had  found  again  an  old  friend  in  her 
neighborhood,  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  whose  hotel,  in  the 
Rue  Joubert,  was  not  above  a  hundred  paces  from  our 
house.  To  name  him  is  sufficient  to  call  to  the  minds 
of  those  who  knew  this  excellent  man  all  that  is  good, 
honorable,  and  honored.  The  Marquis  de  Caulaincourt 
was  likewise  a  friend  of  Madame  Bonaparte;  he  had 
rendered  her  very  great  services.  Of  what  nature  I 
know  not,  but  my  mother  knew;  they  must  have  been 
very  important,  for,  subsequently,  on  the  day  that  his 
two  sons  were  presented  to  the  First  Consul,  when  M. 
de  Caulaincourt  described  to  my  mother  the  truly  re- 
markable reception  which  Bonaparte  had  given  to  him- 
self and  his  sons,  <(  Indeed,  I  can  easily  believe  it, "  said 
my  mother;  (<if  even  the  merits  of  Armand  and  Auguste 
had  not  required  this  distinction,  the  gratitude  which  his 
wife  owes  you  would  have  imperatively  commanded  it." 
M.  de  Caulaincourt  approached  my  mother's  bed,  for  she 
was  lying  down  at  the  time,  and  whispered  to  her  for  a 
few  moments.  <(  No,  no, w  said  my  mother,  "  'tis  not 
enough.  Consider  besides  that  your  sons  may  aspire  to 
everything.  Where  do  you  find  men  possessing  their 
qualifications,  and  who,  moreover,  have  at  their  age  their 
military  renown  ? n 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  was  therefore  a  frequent  visitor  at 
the  house  of  Madame  Bonaparte.  He  gave  her  advice, 
which  she  listened  to  without  following.  He  had  a  gen- 
uine friendship  for  her,  and  he  proved  it  unequivocally; 
but  Madame  Bonaparte  was  excessively  frivolous  and 


i;o         MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

fickle,  with  the  appearance  of  good  nature.  M.  de 
Caulaincourt  soon  became  disliked,  though  he  was  far 
from  suspecting  it;  and  subsequently,  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  my  marriage,  I  formed  one  of  the  select  circle 
at  the  Tuileries,  I  did  not  wound  his  heart  by  telling 
him  that  he  was  called  the  DOTARD. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  was  like  a  living  tradition  of  a 
period  which  our  fathers  themselves  considered  as  be- 
longing to  another  age.  His  sons  did  not  resemble  him. 
Armand,  afterward  Duke  of  Vicenza,  had  much  of  the 
look  of  his  mother;  Auguste  was  not  like  anybody, 
neither  was  Madame  de  Saint  Aignan,  formerly  Madame 
de  Thelusson.  Madame  de  Mornay*  was  a  fine  woman, 
and  had  much  of  the  elegant  carriage  and  manners  of 
Armand. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  was  a  man  of  such  an  original 
stamp  that  I  should  look  around  me  in  vain  at  the 
present  day  for  anyone  resembling  him.  His  features 
had  been  very  delicate  in  his  youth,  and,  though  short 
in  stature,  he  was  perfectly  made.  He  had  dark  expres- 
sive eyes,  to  which,  however,  he  seldom  gave  a  severe 
expression.  Many  years  have  since  passed,  and  yet  my 
recollection  of  M.  de  Caulaincourt  is  so  strong  that 
methinks  at  this  moment  I  can  see  him  alighting  from 
his  horse  at  my  mother's  door  on  his  return  from 
Madame  Bonaparte,  Rue  Chantereine. 

Never  shall  I  forget  that  pretty  pony,  which  fashion 
led  him  to  choose :  he  paid  all  his  visits  upon  horseback, 
like  a  country  apothecary.  Having  formerly  been  a 
cavalry  officer,  highly  esteemed  in  his  corps,  he  had 
retained,  in  spite  of  time,  reform,  and  revolution,  the 
clumsy  jack-boots,  long  queue,  coat  with  large  metal 
buttons,  and  waistcoat  with  flaps.  Below  these  flaps  hung 
two  immense  watch  chains,  with  such  a  collection  of 
trinkets  that,  when  I  did  not  hear  the  usual  noise  made 
by  the  horse  and  himself,  their  jingle,  as  soon  as  he 
began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  apprised  me  of  his  approach. 

He  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  the  most  graceful 
fashion  of  the  day  could  not  stand  a  comparison  with 
his;  and,  to  speak  the  truth,  I  should  be  puzzled  to  tell 
which  was  most  laughable,  he  or  a  young  incroyable  of 
that  time,  buried  in  a  muslin  cravat  two  yards  wide,  with 

*  Afterward  Madame  d'Esternau. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  171 

a  coat  the  skirts  of  which  reached  a  little  lower  than  the 
hips,  while  pantaloons,  ample  enough  to  make  a  gown, 
gave  to  the  lower  part  of  his  person  the  appearance  of 
a  woman.  Add  to  this  capricious  costume  hair  falling  in 
long  thick  corkscrews  over  the  immense  cravat,  and  a 
hat  so  extremely  small  that  it  was  difficult  to  keep  it 
upon  the  head,  which  it  scarcely  covered. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  called  me  his  daughter,  and  I  called 
him  my  LITTLE  PAPA.  Armand,  afterward  Grand  Equerry 
to  the  Emperor,  and  I  were  long  accustomed,  even  at 
Court,  to  call  one  another  brother  and  sister.  The 
portrait  of  the  Duke  of  Vicenza  has  not  been  favorably 
drawn  by  prejudice  and  envy.  He  was  not  liked.  He 
was  perhaps  rather  too  much  convinced  of  his  superiority 
over  most  of  those  who  formed  the  military  circle  of  the 
Emperor,  and  this  conviction  gave  him  an  air  of  reserve 
which  superficial  persons  took  for  haughtiness.  He  was 
clever,  and  had  as  much  the  manners  of  a  gentleman  as 
any  man  in  France.  His  brother  was  far  from  being 
equal  to  him.  Auguste's  temper  was  by  no  means  agree- 
able, and  I  have  frequently  heard  my  mother  reprimand 
him  severely  for  unpoliteness,  even  to  the  friends  of  his 
father.  At  this  period  both  brothers  were  with  their 
regiments. 

General  Bonaparte,  after  staying  but  a  few  weeks  at 
Paris,  when  on  the  point  of  leaving  Europe  with  the 
chance  of  never  returning,  had  been  influenced  by  a 
feeling  of  violent  irritation.  My  brother,  who  in  Italy 
had  always  kept  upon  the  best  terms  with  the  General, 
had  called  to  see  him  at  Bonaparte's  request.  Albert 
went  several  times,  and  always  came  back  more  and 
more  certain  that  Napoleon  was  excessively  mortified  by 
the  course  of  events.  (<  I  plainly  perceive,"  said  Albert, 
w  that  his  great  spirit  is  too  much  compressed  in  that 
narrow  center,  within  which  those  needy  Directors  wish 
to  confine  it:  it  is  a  free  flight  in  untrammeled  space 
that  such  wings  demand.  He  will  die  here;  he  must 
begone.  This  morning, "  added  Albert,  "he  said  to  me: 
*  This  Paris  weighs  me  down  like  a  cloak  of  lead !  *  And 
then  he  paced  to  and  fro.w 

*  And  yet,w  replied  Albert,  <(  never  did  grateful  country 
hail  more  cordially  one  of  its  children.  The  moment 
you  appear,  the  streets,  the  promenades,  the  theaters, 


i;2  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

ring  with  shouts  of  (  Vive  Bonaparte!  *  The  people  love 
you,  General. J> 

While  my  brother  thus  spoke,  Bonaparte,  he  said, 
looked  steadfastly  at  him.  He  stood  motionless,  his 
hands  crossed  behind  him,  and  his  whole  countenance 
expressing  attention  mingled  with  the  liveliest  interest: 
he  then  began  walking  again  with  a  pensive  look. 

<(What  think  you  of  the  East,  Permon?  w  he  abruptly 
asked  my  brother.  (<  You  seem  to  have  had  an  excellent 
education :  for  your  father,  I  believe,  originally  destined  you 
for  the  Diplomatic  Service,  did  he  not?  *  My  brother  re- 
plied in  the  affirmative.  <(  You  speak  modern  Greek, 
I  belie ve?  w  Albert  nodded  assent.  <(  And  Arabic? w 
Albert  answered  in  the  negative,  adding  that  he 
could  easily  learn  to  speak  it  in  the  course  of  a 
month. 

"Indeed!  Well  in  that  case  I M  Here  Bonaparte 

paused,  as  if  fearful  that  he  had  said  too  much.  He 
nevertheless  reverted  to  the  subject  a  moment  afterward, 
and  asked  Albert  if  he  had  been  at  M.  de  Talleyrand's 
ball.  <(  That  was  a  delightful  fete, w  he  added ;  <(  my  Army 
of  Italy  would  be  very  proud  if  it  knew  that  its  Com- 
mander had  received  such  high  honors.  Yes,  the  Direc- 
tors have  done  things  nobly.  I  should  not  have  supposed 
that  they  had  such  skill  in  paying  compliments:  what 
luxury ! }>  He  walked  about  for  a  considerable  time  with- 
out speaking,  and  then  resumed:  <(  It  was  more  magnifi- 
cent than  our  royal  entertainments  of  old.  The  Directory 
ought  not  thus  to  forget  its  republican  origin.  Is  there 
not  pretension  in  appearing  in  such  pomp  before  those 
who,  in  fact,  can  counterbalance  its  power?  I  represent 
the  army !  "  added  Bonaparte ;  <(  yes,  I  represent  the  army, 
and  the  Directors  know  whether  the  army  is  at  this  mo- 
ment powerful  in  France.* 

Nothing  could  be  more  true  than  this  last  insinuation 
of  Bonaparte.  At  this  period  the  army  actually  possessed 
great  influence,  and  a  distant  expedition  was  already 
much  talked  of  in  public.  Bonaparte  asked  my  brother 
several  questions  relative  to  this  subject.  Albert  answered 
that  it  was  generally  believed  that  the  projected  expedi- 
tion was  destined  against  England. 

The  smile  that  now  played  upon  Napoleon's  lips,  as 
Albert  afterward  told  us,  had  so  strange,  so  incompre- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  173 

hensible  an  expression,  that  he  could  not  tell  what  to 
make  of  it. 

(<  England!  w  he  then  rejoined.  w  So  you  think  in  Paris 
that  we  are  going  to  attack  it  at  last  ?  The  Parisians 
are  not  mistaken;  it  is  indeed  to  humble  that  saucy  na- 
tion that  we  are  arming.  England!  If  my  voice  has  any 
influence,  never  shall  England  have  an  hour's  truce. 
Yes,  yes;  war  with  England  forever,  until  its  utter  de- 
struction! Permon,  if  you  choose,  I  will  take  you  with 
me;  you  speak  fluently  English,  Italian,  Greek.  Yes;  I 
will  take  you  with  me.* 

The  conversation  detailed  here  is  the  summary  of  what 
passed  at  five  or  six  interviews.  My  brother  heard  in  all 
quarters  a  variety  of  surmises  concerning  the  projected 
expedition.  The  secret  was  long  kept,  but  at  length  it 
was  divulged;  for  Bonaparte,  covetous  of  all  kinds  of 
glory,  resolved  to  surround  himself  with  the  splendor 
which  the  arts  and  sciences  impart  to  everything.  He 
laid  the  Institute  itself  under  contribution.  An  immense 
battalion  accompanied  the  new  Alexander  to  the  banks 
of  the  Nile,  whence  it  was  destined  to  bring  back  a 
trophy  more  brilliant  than  any  that  blood  can  give  to 
posterity. 

As  soon  as  my  brother  learned  that  the  expedition  was 
destined  for  so  distant  a  country  his  resolution  was  taken; 
he  arranged  his  affairs,  and  prepared  for  his  departure. 
My  mother,  when  she  knew  it,  threw  herself  in  a  man- 
ner at  his  feet,  entreating  him  not  to  forsake  her.  Al- 
bert needed  no  second  supplication ;  he  remained. 


174  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

Family  of  Junot — His  Education  —  His  Character  —  The  Battalion  of 
the  Cote  d'Or  —  Junot  a  Grenadier  —  Promoted  to  Sergeant  —  The 
Siege  of  Toulon  —  First  Meeting  of  Junot  and  Bonaparte  —  Extraor- 
dinary Scene  —  Junot  Is  Bonaparte's  First  Aid-de-Camp  —  Curious 
Correspondence  Between  Junot  and  His  Father  —  Remarkable  Dream 
—  Muiron  and  Marmont  —  Death  of  Muiron  —  Wounds  of  Junot  — 
Inexplicable  Errors  in  the  Memorial  of  St.  Helena  —  Politeness  of 
Junot  —  Adventures  of  Madame  de  Brionne  at  Dijon  —  She  Pre- 
sents Junot  with  Her  Portrait  —  Baron  de  Steyer. 

AMONG  the  young  officers  whom  Bonaparte  had  intro- 
duced to  my  mother,  when  he  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  Army  of  the  Interior,  she  dis- 
tinguished one,  as  well  on  account  of  his  manners,  blunt 
without  rudeness,  and  his  open  countenance,  as  for  the 
extreme  attachment  which  he  manifested  for  his  General. 
This  attachment  bordered  upon  passion.  He  evinced  an 
enthusiasm  so  touching  that  my  mother,  whose  elevated 
soul  and  loving  heart  were  capable  of  appreciating  all 
exalted  sentiments,  had  immediately  distinguished  Colonel 
Junot,  and  from  that  moment  she  felt  the  sincerest 
friendship  for  him.  I  was  then  quite  a  girl,  and  never 
dreamed  that  the  handsome  Colonel,  with  light  hair,  ele- 
gant dress,  engaging  countenance,  and  yet  serious  look, 
would  come  three  years  afterward  and,  out  of  love,  solicit 
the  hand  of  the  little  girl  whom  at  that  time  he  scarcely 
noticed. 

Of  all  the  officers  composing  Bonaparte's  staff  Colonel 
Junot  had  the  most  adventurous  and  the  most  fortunate 
destiny.  He  bore,  in  recent  scars,  the  glorious  marks 
of  a  valor  which  his  bitterest  enemies  have  not  attempted 
to  deny  him.  The  General-in-Chief  had  known  how  to 
appreciate  it,  and  with  the  origin  of  his  fortune  were 
connected  several  remarkable  acts,  not  only  of  courage, 
but  also  of  honor  and  generosity.  It  was  at  the  siege 
of  Toulon  that  the  General  had  become  acquainted  with 
him,  and  in  a  manner  which,  for  its  singularity,  deserves 
to  be  related  at  length. 

Junot  was  born  at  Bussy-Legrand,  in  the  department 
of  the  Cote  d'Or,  on  the  24th  of  September,  1771,  and  it 
may  be  observed,  by  the  way,  that  he  received  for  a 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTfeS  175 

Christian  name  that  of  the  saint  whose  festival  happened 
to  fall  on  the  day  of  his  birth;  hence  he  had  the  most 
singular  name  perhaps  in  France  —  it  was  Andoche. 
What  trouble  this  unlucky  name  gave  in  the  sequel  to 
the  masters  in  the  art  of  pleasing,  who  took  it  into  their 
heads  to  celebrate  the  ruling  powers ! 

Junot's  parents  were  respectable  bourgeois;  his  family 
was  in  easy  circumstances.  His  mother's  two  brothers 
were,  the  one  a  physician  at  Paris,  where  he  was  de- 
servedly esteemed,  and  the  other  first  Canon  of  the 
cathedral  of  Evreux,  possessing  good  benefices,  which 
he  meant  to  leave  to  the  elder  of  his  nephews,  M. 
Junot,  who  died  Receiver-General  of  the  Upper  Saone. 
The  Abbe"  Bien-Aime"  was  a  worthy  priest,  whose  memory 
I  revere.  He  died  Bishop  of  Metz,  in  1806,  regretted  by 
his  whole  diocese,  the  poor  of  which  called  him  If  Bien- 
Nommt. 

As,  prior  to  the  Revolution  of  1789,  the  class  of  the 
bourgeoisie  never  put  their  sons  into  the  army,  Junot  was 
destined  for  the  bar.  His  education,  begun  at  Montbard 
under  an  excellent  man  named  Heurte",  of  whom  he 
frequently  spoke  with  gratitude,  was  completed  at  the 
college  of  Chatillon-sur-Seine.*  Here  he  first  became 
acquainted  with  Marmont,  who  was  a  pupil  at  the  same 
college,  and  here  they  contracted  that  friendship  which 
nothing  ever  diminished,  though  both  of  them  pursued 
the  same  career.  This  friendship  ended  only  with 
Junot's  death  in  1813. 

*«.When  General  Junot  returned  from  the  Egyptian  expedition,  he 
went  into  Burgundy  to  see  his  relatives  and  friends,  and  to  show  them 
that  prosperity  had  not  altered  his  sentiments  toward  them.  At  Mont- 
bard  where  he  had  received  what  little  education  he  possessed,  he 
called  on  his  schoolfellows,  whom  he  saluted  with  great  cordiality;  but 
his  emotion  was  much  greater  when  he  met  with  his  former  preceptor, 
whom  he  had  believed  to  be  dead.  He  threw  his  arms  around  the  old 
man's  neck,  and  kissed  him.  Surprised  to  receive  such  testimonies  ot 
regard  from  a  stranger,  especially  from  one  so  richly  habited,  the  school- 
master looked  foolish,  and  was  unable  to  utter  a  word. 

<(  <  Do  you  not  know  me  ?  *  inquired  the  young  officer.  <  I  have  not 
that  honor,  sir.>  <  What !  not  know  the  idlest,  the  most  dissolute,  and 
the  most  worthless  of  your  scholars?*  <Am  I,  then,  speaking  to  M. 
Junot  ?  >  inquired  the  old  man  with  the  utmost  naivett.  The  General 
laughed,  again  embraced  his  tutor,  and  on  going  away  settled  on  him 
an  annual  pension. »—«  The  Court  and  Camp  of  Napoleon  »  (1836), 
p.  194. 


176  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

Junot  was  a  man  of  very  extraordinary  character, 
which  was  not  always  duly  appreciated  by  those  about  him, 
because  he  himself  sometimes  threw  an  obstacle  in  the  way, 
in  consequence  of  a  defect  which  really  was  a  drawback 
from  his  many  good  qualities  —  I  mean  an  extreme  irri- 
tability, easily  excited  in  him  by  the  mere  appearance 
of  a  fault.  Whenever  he  had  reason  to  suspect  anyone, 
more  especially  a  person  under  his  command,  of  neglect 
in  matters  connected  with  the  service,  he  could  not  help 
reproving  him  for  it,  and  the  more  harshly,  as,  in  the 
like  case,  he  would  have  been  just  as  severe  toward 
one  of  his  own  relations.  On  such  occasions  his  frank- 
ness did  not  allow  him  one  circumlocutory  word. 

Junot  had  lofty  ideals ;  he  was  a  stranger  to  falsehood, 
and  was  endowed  with  a  generosity  which  his  enemies 
have  endeavored  to  represent  as  a  vice,  but  which  his 
numerous  family,  who  for  fifteen  years  had  no  other 
support  than  him,  a  great  number  of  crippled  soldiers, 
of  widows  encumbered  with  children,  who  received  pen- 
sions and  relief  from  him,  will  never  call  anything  but 
the  virtue  of  a  noble  heart. 

He  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the  qualities  of  a 
good  son,  a  warm  friend,  and  an  excellent  father.  I 
recollect  Mr.  Fox  telling  me  one  day  how  he  was  struck 
the  preceding  evening,  when  leaving  the  opera  house,  on 
seeing  Junot  paying  as  much  attention  and  respect  to 
his  mother  as  he  could  have  done  to  the  first  peeress 
of  England.*  How  many  college  friends,  how  many  in- 
digent relatives,  has  he  succored  and  saved !  How  many 
ungrateful  persons  are  there  to  whom  he  was  a  patron, 
a  brother,  and  whose  fortunes  he  made! 

Junot  doted  on  his  children.  Who  can  know,  as  I  have 
done,  all  that  anxiety,  so  strong  and  so  tender,  which 
he  felt  even  in  the  midst  of  personal  danger  ?  What 
letters  he  would  write  me !  How  affecting  they  were  for 
their  candor  and  ingenuousness!  At  one  time  he  would 
inquire  whether  his  boy  had  cut  his  tenth  tooth.  At 
another  he  would  say :  <(  But  when  shall  you  wean  little 
Rodrigue  ?  *  And  then  his  girls,  what  were  they  doing  ? 

*  Mr.  Fox  meant  by  no  means  to  satirize  France  by  appearing  to 
think  it  admirable  that  a  son  should  give  his  arm  to  his  mother.  It  was 
the  extraordinary  care  and  attention  that  struck  him,  as  he  himself 
acknowledged. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  177 

Were  they  grown  ?  Did  they  work  at  their  needle  ? 
These  details  may  appear  trivial,  but  the  letters  were 
written  under  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  amid  the  snows  of 
Russia,  or  perhaps  an  hour  after  receiving  a  wound, 
which  had  not  even  been  dressed.  I  preserve  all  those 
invaluable  letters,  which  shall  descend  as  a  sacred 
inheritance  to  my  children. 

Having  begun  life  with  the  Revolution,  Junot  was 
absolutely  one  of  its  children.  He  was  scarcely  twenty 
when  the  first  roll  of  the  drum  was  heard.  A  war  cry 
rang  throughout  the  kingdom;  the  most  discreet  panted 
for  combat;  all  were  tired  of  repose.  Had  not  Junot 
been  my  husband,  I  should  tell  how  he  became  all  at 
once  a  young-  Achilles.  Suddenly  smitten  with  a  passion 
for  arms,  he  wholly  forgot  the  luxurious  and  indolent 
life  which  till  then  he  had  led.  It  was  then  that  he 
entered  into  that  celebrated  battalion  of  volunteers  of 
the  Cote-d'Or,  so  renowned  for  the  number  of  generals 
and  great  officers  of  the  Empire  who  sprang  from  its 
ranks.  Its  commander  was  the  amiable  and  unfortunate 
Cazotte. 

After  the  surrender  of  Longwy,  the  battalion  was 
ordered  to  Toulon  to  join  the  forces  collected  to  retake 
it  from  the  English.  This  was  the  most  critical  moment 
of  the  Revolution.  Junot  was  sergeant  of  grenadiers, 
which  rank  had  been  conferred  on  him  upon  the  field  of 
battle.  Often,  when  relating  to  me  the  circumstances 
of  the  first  years  of  his  adventurous  life,  did  he  speak 
of  that  event  as  the  most  extraordinary  that  had  befallen 
him.  He  said,  with  that  accent  which  persuades  because 
it  is  true,  that,  in  the  whole  course  of  his  career  of  honors, 
nothing  ever  threw  him  into  such  a  delirium  of  joy  as 
that  which  he  experienced  when  his  comrades,  all  of 
them  as  brave  as  himself,  appointed  him  their  sergeant, 
when  their  commander  confirmed  their  appointment,  and 
he  was  lifted  on  a  tremulous  platform  supported  by 
bayonets  still  dripping  with  the  blood  of  the  enemy. 

It  was  about  this  time  that,  being  one  day  on  duty  at 
the  battery  of  the  Sans-Culottes,  a  commandant  of 
artillery,  who  had  come  a  few  days  before  from  Paris  to 
direct  the  operations  of  the  siege,  in  so  far  as  the 
artillery  under  the  command  of  Cartaux  was  concerned, 
applied  to  the  officer  of  the  post  for  a  young  subaltern, 
vz 


178  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

possessing  both  courage  and  intelligence.  The  Lieuten- 
ant immediately  called  La  Temptte  —  Junot  stepped  for- 
ward. The  Commandant  scrutinized  him  with  an  eye 
that  seemed  already  to  look  through  the  man. 

"  Pull  off  your  coat,0  said  the  Commandant,  (<  and  carry 
this  order  yonder,"  pointing  to  the  most  distant  part  of 
the  coast,  and  explaining  what  he  wished  him  to  do. 
<(  I  am  not  a  SPY,  °  said  he  to  the  Commandant ;  <(  seek 
somebody  else;  I  shall  not  take  your  order.0  He  was 
retiring.  w  So  you  refuse  to  obey  ? °  said  the  superior 
officer  in  a  sharp  tone :  tt  do  you  know  to  what  punish- 
ment you  render  yourself  liable  ?  °  <(  I  am  ready  to 
obey,0  said  Junot,  "but  I  will  go  in  my  uniform  or  not 
at  all;  and  that  is  honor  enough  for  those  rascally  Eng- 
lish. °  The  Commandant  smiled,  as  he  looked  steadfastly 
at  him.  <(  But  they  will  kill  you,0  replied  he.  <(  What  is 
that  to  you  ?  You  don't  know  me  well  enough  to  fret 
after  me;  and  as  for  myself,  'tis  all  one  to  me.  Well,  I 
may  go  as  I  am,  may  not  I  ?  °  He  then  put  his  hand 
into  his  cartridge  box.  <(  Well,  with  my  sword  and  these 
pills,  at  any  rate  the  conversation  shall  not  flag,  if  those 
fellows  have  anything  to  say  to  me.0  He  then  set  off 
singing. 

(<  What  is  that  young  man's  name  ? °  asked  the  supe- 
rior officer,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone.  <(  Junot.  °  (<  Ho  is 
sure  to  get  forward.0  The  Commandant  then  noted 
down  his  name  in  his  pocketbook.  This  was  already  an 
opinion  of  great  weight,  for  the  reader  will  easily  have 
guessed  that  the  officer  of  artillery  was  Napoleon. 

A  few  days  afterward,  being  at  the  same  battery  of 
the  Sans-Culottes,  Bonaparte  asked  for  someone  who 
could  write  a  good  hand.  Junot  stepped  out  of  the  ranks 
and  offered  his  services.  Bonaparte  recognized  in  him 
the  sergeant  who  had  already  attracted  his  notice.  He 
told  him  to  place  himself  somewhere  to  write  a  letter, 
which  he  would  dictate.  Junot  chose  the  corner  of  the 
battery.  Scarcely  had  he  finished  the  letter  when  a 
bomb,  fired  by  the  English,  burst  at  the  distance  of  ten 
paces  and  covered  him  as  well  as  the  letter,  with  mold 
and  dust.  "Capital!0  said  Junot,  laughing;  (<  we  wanted 
some  sand  to  dry  the  ink. ° 

Bonaparte  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  young  sergeant ;  he  was 
quite  calm,  and  had  not  even  started.  This  circumstance 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  179 

decided  his  fortune.  He  continued  with  the  Comman- 
dant of  the  artillery,  and  did  not  return  to  his  corps. 
Afterward,  when  the  city  was  taken  and  Bonaparte  ap- 
pointed General,  Junot  asked  no  other  reward  for 
his  good  conduct  during  the  siege  but  to  be  appointed 
his  aid-de-camp,  *  preferring  an  inferior  rank  to  that 
which  he  might  have  had  by  remaining  in  the  corps; 
but  in  this  case  he  would  have  been  obliged  to  leave 
Bonaparte,  and  Junot  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to 
that. 

Junot  was  soon  attached  to  his  General  with  a  devoted- 
ness  that  became  adoration.  Without  taking  the  full 
measure  of  the  giant  who  was  before  him,  his  penetra- 
ting mind  set  him  down  for  a  great  man.  I  subjoin  an 
extract  from  a  letter,  the  original  of  which  is  in  my  pos- 
session; it  was  written  in  1794,  when  Junot's  father, 
alarmed  at  the  resolution  of  his  son,  asked  him  for  in- 
formation concerning  the  man  to  whose  fortunes  he  had 
attached  himself.  "Why  have  you  left  the  Commandant 
Laborde  ?  f  Why  have  you  left  your  corps  ?  Who  is  this 
General  Bonaparte  ?  Where  has  he  served  ?  Nobody 
knows  him  here. w 

Junot  answered  his  father,  and  explained  to  him  why 
he  had  preferred  the  service  of  the  staff,  especially  that 
active  service  which  he  was  likely  to  have  with  his  Gen- 
eral, to  the  more  tardy  results  that  would  have  attended 
his  remaining  with  his  battalion.  He  then  added:  w  You 
ask  me  who  is  this  General  Bonaparte.  I  might  answer 
in  the  words  of  Santeuil: 

(( <  Pour  savoir  ce  quit  est  ilfaut   Itre  lui-mlme;^ 

but  this  much  will  I  tell  you,  that  as  far  as  I  can  judge 
he  is  one  of  those  men  of  whom  Nature  is  sparing,  and 
whom  she  throws  into  the  world  but  once  in  a  century.* 
When  Napoleon  set  out  for  Egypt  he  passed  through 
Burgundy  on  his  way  to  Toulon.  He  stopped  at  Dijon, 

*  Junot  and  Muiron,  the  latter  of  whom  afterward  perished  so  un- 
fortunately, were  the  first  aids-de-camp  that  Bonaparte  ever  had. 

f  Afterward  General  of  Division  and  Commandant  at  Lisbon  at  the 
time  of  the  Conquest.  It  was  Laborde  who  commanded  in  Oporto- 
when  Marshal  Soult  suffered  himself  to  be  surprised  by  the  English, 
conceiving  that  it  was  the  Swiss  regiment  which  was  crossing  the 
river. 


i8o  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

where  my  father-in-law  then  was,  and  the  latter  showed 
him  the  letter  which  I  just  quoted. 

u  Monsieur  Junot, w  said  the  General,  <(  this  only  serves 
to  confirm  me  in  my  conviction  of  your  son's  attachment 
to  me.  He  has  given  me  strong  proofs  of  it,  which  have 
deeply  touched  me.  You  and  he  may  therefore  rely  upon 
it  that  I  will  use  all  my  power  and  influence  to  advance 
him  in  our  adventurous  career.8 

My  father-in-law  had  then  no  occasion  to  ask  who  THIS 
GENERAL  BONAPARTE  was.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  after 
this  conversation,  what  Bonaparte  had  said  to  him  was 
written  in  his  pocketbook,  and  put  into  his  left  pocket, 
as  near  as  possible  to  his  heart.  His  adoration  of  Na- 
poleon became  from  that  moment  almost  as  profound  as 
that  of  his  son. 

Bonaparte  kept  the  promise  which  he  had  made  to 
Junot's  father:  he  was  to  him  a  kind  and  useful  patron; 
but,  then,  there  were  important  obligations  on  the  other 
side.  We  have  already  seen  that  Junot,  deeply  concerned 
at  the  arrest  and  accusation  of  Bonaparte,  wanted  to 
share  his  captivity;  that  he  was  repulsed  from  the  prison 
by  Napoleon  himself,  who  convinced  him  that  he  might 
be  of  more  use  to  him  by  remaining  at  liberty.  We  see, 
in  fact,  that  the  defense  of  Napoleon,  addressed  to  the 
representatives  of  the  people,  Albitte  and  Salicetti,  who 
had  caused  him  to  be  apprehended,  was  Junot's  writing: 
there  are  merely  a  few  notes  to  it  in  Bonaparte's  hand. 
After  the  liberation  of  the  General,  Junot  accompanied 
him  to  Paris.  There  he  constantly  shared  his  poverty, 
and  always  divided  with  him  what  he  received  from  his 
family. 

(<  The  galleons  are  not  yet  arrived, }>  Bonaparte  would 
say  to  my  mother,  when  he  called  to  see  her,  with  a 
long  face,  and  a  gray  frock  coat,  which  has  since  become 
so  famous,  but  was  then  a  very  shabby  concern ;  tt  the 
Burgundy  diligence  has  not  yet  arrived.  If  it  do  not 
come  to-night,  we  shall  have  no  dinner  to-morrow  —  at 
least,  if  you  don't  give  us  one,  Madame  Permon."  What 
Napoleon  called  the  galleons  was  a  remittance  of  two  or 
three  hundred  francs,  which  Junot's  mother  now  and 
then  sent  to  her  son.  This  he  divided  with  the 
General.  <(And  I  always  have  the  larger  share, w  said 
Bonaparte. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  181 

When  Napoleon,  after  the  4th  of  October,  was  invested 
with  the  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Interior,  he  took 
other  aids-de-camp.  Marmont  was  one  of  them;  and  at 
this  period  he,  Junot,  and  Muiron  were  the  privileged 
persons  of  his  staff.  Junot  and  Muiron  were  on  the 
most  intimate  terms.  They  were  for  some  time  the 
only  two  officers  attached  to  General  Bonaparte.  Their 
friendship  was  not  affected  by  the  addition  of  Marmont 
to  their  little  staff,  and,  as  I  have  already  observed,  Junot 
and  he  had  been  educated  at  the  same  college. 

It  was  a  very  remarkable  point  in  Junot's  character,  or 
rather  in  his  heart,  that  he  was  weak  and  superstitious 
in  regard  to  his  dearest  friends  as  he  was  rash  and  reck- 
less of  his  own  person ;  so  that  whenever  a  battle  was  at 
hand,  he  was  distressed  about  the  fate  of  his  friends  till 
he  saw  them  again.  On  the  evening  before  the  Battle  of 
Lonato,  after  having  been  on  duty  the  whole  day,  and 
riding  perhaps  fifty  miles,  carrying  orders  in  all  directions, 
he  lay  down  exhausted  with  fatigue,  but  without  undress- 
ing, that  he  might  be  ready  at  the  shortest  notice. 

During  the  day  he  had  thought  a  great  deal  about 
Muiron  and  his  situation.  Muiron  had  formed  plans  for 
his  future  establishment,  which  he  had  communicated  to 
Junot.  He  meant,  at  the  end  of  the  campaign,  to  apply 
for  leave  of  absence,  that  he  might  go  to  Antibes,  for  the 
purpose  of  marrying  a  young  widow  residing  there,  of 
whom  he  was  enamored,  and  who  possessed  some  fortune. 
It  would  therefore  have  been  natural  enough  that  Junot's 
slumbers,  receiving  a  tinge  from  the  impressions  of  the 
day,  should  present  to  him  similar  joys,  but  in  a  different 
form. 

But  no  sooner  was  he  asleep  than  he  dreamed  that  he 
was  on  a  field  of  battle,  covered  with  dead  and  dying. 
He  was  met  by  a  powerful  masked  knight  on  horseback, 
with  whom  he  fought ;  this  knight  had,  instead  of  a  lance, 
a  long  scythe,  with  which  he  struck  at  Junot  several  times, 
and  wounded  him  deeply  on  the  left  temple.  The  battle  was 
long;  at  length  they  closed.  In  the  conflict  the  tall  rider's 
visor  or  mask  fell  off,  and  Junot  beheld  a  death's-head; 
the  armor  then  disappeared,  and  Death,  with  his  scythe, 
stood  upright  before  him.  <(  I  could  not  take  you  to- 
day, »  said  he;  «  but  I  will  take  one  of  your  best  friends. 
Beware  of  me !  w 


182 

Junot  awoke  bathed  in  perspiration ;  day  began  to  dawn ; 
the  bustle  which  precedes  a  day  such  as  that  which  was 
preparing  was  already  heard ;  he  tried  to  sleep  again,  but 
•could  not;  he  was  so  much  agitated,  and  this  dream  pro- 
duced an  uneasiness  which  increased  every  moment ;  yet, 
singularly  enough,  his  apprehensions  were  not  directed 
to  Muiron,  and  on  that  day  his  anxiety  was  exclusively 
;about  Marmont. 

"The  engagement  began.  Junot  received  two  wounds 
ion  the  head,  one  of  which  left  that  fine  scar  which  was 
long  seen  on  the  left  temple,  the  other  was  near  the 
nape  of  the  neck ;  neither  of  these  wounds  appeared  very 
dangerous,  but  there  was  a  chance  that  the  one  on  the 
temple  might  become  so  in  the  state  of  mind  in  which 
lie  then  was. 

The  moment  he  came  to  himself  he  inquired  after 
Marmont.  He  was  not  to  be  found.  When  the  officer 
who  had  been  to  look  for  him  returned,  and  imprudently 
told  Yvan,  who  was  dressing  Junot's  wound,  that  he 
could  not  find  him,  Junot,  calling  to  mind  his  dream, 
was  seized  with  a  kind  of  delirium,  which  alarmed  the 
surgeons  the  more  because  his  blood  had  been  for  sev- 
eral days  past  highly  inflamed.  A  messenger  was  sent 
to  acquaint  the  General-in-Chief  with  what  had  hap- 
pened; he  went  himself  to  his  favorite  aid-de-camp  and 
strove  to  soothe  him ;  but  Junot  would  not  listen  to  any- 
thing, and  had  not  Marmont  at  that  moment  arrived 
from  executing  a  commission  given  him  by  the  General- 
in-Chief  (he  had  been,  I  believe,  to  Massena's  headquar- 
ters), Junot  would  probably  have  been  attacked  by 
tetanus.  As  soon  as  he  saw  his  friend  he  became  com- 
posed, and  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  nothing  more 
to  apprehend. 

<(Ah,  there  you  are ! M  he  exclaimed,  taking  him  by  the 
hand ;  (<  there  you  are !  *  He  then  examined  him  with 
the  only  eye  that  was  uncovered  to  see  whether  he  had 
received  any  wound,  and  smiled  with  satisfaction  on  per- 
ceiving no  other  traces  of  the  battle  but  disordered  hair, 
and  clothes  covered  with  dust  and  Austrian  blood.  All 
at  once  he  was  struck  by  the  extreme  gloom  on  Mar- 
mont's  countenance ;  the  image  of  Muiron  presented  itself 
to  his  mind.  "Where  is  Muiron? w  cried  he;  "where  is 
Muiron  ? M  Marmont  cast  down  his  eyes,  and  the  surgeon 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANT&S  183 

gave  Heldt,  Junot's  valet  de  chambre,  a  significant  look 
to  enjoin  silence.  Junot  understood  them.  "  The  wretch," 
cried  he,  (<  has  kept  his  word,  then!*'  Muiron  had  actu- 
ally fallen. 

During  the  whole  of  the  campaigns  in  Italy,  Junot  ac- 
companied Bonaparte  in  those  fields  of  glory,  and  was 
not  sparing  of  his  blood;  he  was  in  all  the  brilliant  days 
of  Arcola,  Lodi,  Castiglione,  Lonato,  the  Tagliamento, 
etc.  He  served  his  General  and  his  country  on  the  field 
of  battle  with  all  the  zeal  that  could  be  expected  from 
an  attachment  such  as  his.  Bonaparte,  who  knew  and 
duly  appreciated  him,  employed  him  during  the  cam- 
paigns in  Italy  in  other  duties  besides  those  of  an  officer 
of  the  advance  guard.  The  occupation  of  Venice,  which 
required  both  great  subtlety  and  extreme  firmness,  was 
intrusted  to  him ;  he  brought  back  with  him  colors  which 
his  arm  had  assisted  in  taking,  and  his  mission  had,  as 
we  shall  see,  an  entirely  diplomatic  object. 

I  have  already  observed  that  Junot  lavished  his  blood 
for  the  glory  of  his  country.  I  shall  here  mention  a  few 
instances.  During  the  campaign  in  Italy,  at  the  Battle 
of  Lonato,  he  received,  as  we  have  just  seen,  a  wound  on 
his  left  temple ;  but  the  most  frightful  of  his  wounds 
was  a  gunshot  wound  received  in  Germany  when  only  a 
volunteer;  it  must  have  been  terrible,  to  judge  from  the 
scar,  which  made  one  shudder.  The  pulsation  of  the 
brain  might  be  perceived  there ;  this  scar  was  at  least  an 
inch  long,  and  seven  or  eight  inches  in  depth.  At  fre- 
quent intervals  during  the  three  or  four  years  succeed- 
ing that  campaign,  this  wound  would  break  open  afresh  in 
a  manner  equally  singular  and  alarming,  and,  the  blood 
flowing  profusely  from  it,  Junot  ran  the  risk  every  time 
of  bleeding  to  death. 

One  day,  at  Milan,  being  at  the  house  of  Madame 
Bonaparte,  where  they  were  playing  at  vingt  ft  un,  Junot 
was  sitting  at  a  round  table  with  his  back  toward  the 
door  of  the  cabinet  of  the  General-in-Chief.  The  General 
opened  his  door  without  being  heard ;  he  made  a  sign  to 
be  silent,  and,  coming  up  softly,  laid  hold  of  the  fine 
light  head  of  hair  which  the  young  aid-de-camp  then  had, 
and  pulled  it  sharply.  The  pain  was  so  acute  that 
Junot  could  not  suppress  a  faint  cry;  he  smiled,  but 
his  face  turned  pale  as  death  and  then  alarmingly  red. 


1 84  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

The  General  withdrew  his  hand;  it  was  covered  with 
blood ! 

To  a  brilliant  and  creative  imagination  Junot  joined  an 
acute  understanding  that  was  most  prompt  in  seizing  any 
new  idea  the  moment  it  presented  itself  to  him.  He 
learned  everything  with  inconceivable  rapidity.  He  was 
very  ready  at  composing  verses,  was  an  excellent  actor, 
and  wrote  wonderfully  well.  His  temper  was  warm, 
sometimes  passionate,  but  never  was  he  coarse  or  brutal ; 
and,  during  the  thirteen  years  of  our  union,  I  never  wit- 
nessed such  a  scene  as  that  which  is  described  in  the 
Memorial  of  St.  Helena;  the  Emperor  could  not  have 
made  such  an  assertion,  or,  in  absence  of  mind,  he  must 
have  mentioned  one  name  instead  of  another.  The  pic- 
ture of  Junot  running  about  in  his  handsome  hotel,  as 
he  is  alleged  to  have  done  in  the  Memorial,  sword  in 
hand,  to  pay  his  creditors,  is  absolutely  ludicrous  to  all 
who  were  acquainted  with  Junot  and  knew  how  anxious 
he  was  to  act  in  conformity  with  the  elevated  post  which 
he  occupied. 

This  post,  formerly  so  eminent  under  the  Bourbons, 
was  infinitely  more  important  under  the  Emperor.  The 
Governor  of  Paris  had  the  command  of  nearly  80,000 
men ;  he  was  the  only  Governor  who  ever  had  such  great 
power,  extending  to  Blois,  and,  I  believe,  even  to  Tours. 
All  officers  of  distinction,  foreign  or  French,  who  passed 
through  Paris,  were  received  by  him.  Every  person  of 
any  renown  who  came  to  France  was  admitted  to  the 
hospitalities  of  the  Governor  of  Paris;  and,  from  the  first 
day  of  his  nomination  Junot  strove  to  imitate  the  Due 
de  Brissac,  if  not  in  his  two  queues  and  his  white  scarf, 
at  least  in  the  politeness  of  his  manners.  The  desire  of 
standing  well  in  his  intercourse  with  the  social  world 
dates  even  much  further  back,  notwithstanding  Junot's 
fondness  for  the  Republic  and  his  aversion  to  ancient 
customs. 

I  will  give  an  example.  When  all  the  world  was  em- 
igrating and  the  revolutionary  tempest  began  to  roar, 
Madame  de  Brionne  was  stopped  when  attempting  to 
leave  France  at  a  town  (I  believe  Chalons)  where  Junot 
happened  to  be  with  his  regiment.  It  was  said  that 
Madame  de  Brionne  was  carrying  with  her  the  Crown 
diamonds;  she  was  the  mother  of  the  Prince  de  Lam- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  185 

besc,*  whose  name  was  held  in  abhorrence  by  the 
people  for  his  affair  at  the  Tuileries;  she  belonged,  more- 
over, to  the  house  of  Lorraine,  and  that  was  enough  to 
render  her  suspected.  She  was  therefore  detained,  but, 
thanks  to  Junot,  this  measure,  which  might  have  as- 
sumed a  most  serious  character,  was  productive  of  no 
other  unpleasant  result  than  the  mere  fact  of  her  appre- 
hension. 

Madame  de  Brionne  was  conveyed  to  the  best  inn  in 
the  town,  and  Junot  persuaded  the  Mayor's  officers  to  go 
themselves  and  examine  her.  w  She  is  a  woman,"  said 
he ;  <(  you  do  not  arrest  her  by  virtue  of  a  warrant,  since 
you  have  no  commission  to  do  so,  but  you  act  out  of 
patriotism;  you  have  received  information  upon  which 
you  act:  so  far  all  is  right.  Consider,  however,  that  your 
information  may  be  false,  and  that  your  action  then  be- 
comes the  more  vexatious,  inasmuch  as  there  is  no  just 
cause  for  it:  you  must  act  then  as  if  you  doubt  whether 
you  be  right;  and,  besides,  she  is  a  woman  and  we  are 
Frenchmen. w 

They  replied  to  Junot  with  cheers,  and,  in  consequence 
of  this  harangue,  it  was  resolved  to  proceed  to  the  noble 
traveler,  who,  not  having  been  forewarned,  had  well-nigh 
marred  everything.  She  had  thrown  herself  on  a  bed 
upon  pretext  of  fatigue,  but  probably  to  avoid  the  cere- 
monial of  bows  and  courtesies ;  she  shrunk  from  the  idea 
of  desiring  people  such  as  she  then  saw  to  sit  down  in 
her  presence. 

By  a  very  simple  accident,  however,  her  stratagem  was 
thwarted.  The  Mayor  being  absent  from  the  town,  there 
came  in  his  stead  an  extremely  vulgar  fellow,  who,  on 
entering  the  room,  threw  himself  into  an  armchair,  say- 
ing: (<I  beg  your  pardon,  citoycnne,  but  I  am  heavy,  you 
see  (he  was  full  two  hundredweight),  and  by  your  leave 
I  will  sit  down." 

At  this  intrusion  Madame  de  Brionne  half  raised  her- 
self on  the  bed,  and  lifted  up  her  head  with  an  expres- 
sion which  gave  her  a  most  gigantic  stature  of  twenty 
cubits.  w  By  what  right,  sir,  do  you  interrupt  my  jour- 
ney ?  *  said  she  to  the  fat  man  who  acted  the  part  of 
Mayor.  <(  Is  this  the  liberty  people  now  enjoy  in  France  ? 
I  insist  upon  your  suffering  me  to  proceed  this  instant." 

*  And  of  the  Prince  de  Vaudemont 


i86  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

The  fat  man  made  no  other  reply  to  this  application 
than  to  ask  Madame  de  Brionne  who  she  was  and  whence 
she  came. 

In  relating  this  scene  to  me,  Junot  said :  (<  Never  shall 
I  forget  the  expression  of  Madame  de  Brionne's  face ;  it 
was  not  indignation;  it  was  an  almost  unknown  senti- 
ment; it  was  stupif action,  madness.  She,  Madame  de 
Brionne,  to  be  interrogated!  Not  only  her  name  to  be 
asked,  but  who  she  was!  *  After  all,'  said  the  man  of 
the  Commune,  'we  must  know  what  is  your  profession.* 
Madame  de  Brionne  returned  no  answer,  but  it  was  evi- 
dent how  severely  she  suffered  from  the  constraint.  A 
young  woman  who  was  near  her  seemed  in  a  whisper  to 
be  striving  to  soothe  her. 

(<At  length,  when  she  had  been  questioned  for  the 
third  time  as  to  her  name  and  quality,  she  raised  her- 
self with  that  dignity  which  never  fails  to  awe  when  it  is 
inspired  by  the  feeling  of  what  one  really  is,  and  ex- 
claimed, (  Marie  Louise  de  Rohan,  Comtesse  de  Brionne ! 
As  to  the  charge  which  you  have  the  stupidity  rather 

than  the  infamy  to  allege  against  me Show  them 

my  luggage,'  continued  she,  turning  to  a  valet  de  chambre; 
(they  will  see  that  the  house  of  Lorraine  possesses 
wealth  without  having  occasion  to  rob  the  house  of 
France. ' 

(<  I  was  exceedingly  pained  at  this  scene,  *  said  Junot, 
<(  and  when  the  clumsy  booby  had  thoroughly  convinced 
himself  that  Madame  de  Brionne  had  nothing  with  her 
that  could  even  cause  her  to  be  suspected,  I  said 
sharply  that  she  might  be  allowed  to  take  some  rest  be- 
fore she  resumed  her  journey,  which  she  wanted  to  do 
immediately.  At  any  rate  that  woman  had  a  noble  and 
dignified  courage  which  excited  a  lively  interest  in  me, 
and  I  strove  to  screen  her  from  the  inconveniences  of  her 
situation. M 

Madame  de  Brionne  was  too  much  accustomed  to  good 
society  not  to  be  immediately  aware  of  the  attentions 
paid  to  her  by  Junot,  which  never  ceased  till  her  de- 
parture; and  at  a  moment  when  she  thought  she  should 
not  be  overheard,  she  said  to  Junot,  (<  It  must  be  very 
painful  to  you,  sir,  to  wear  that  dress  and  to  live  with 
such  people.  It  is  no  doubt  your  father  whose  opinions 
Alas!  in  these  disastrous  times  it  is  no  uncommon 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  187 

thing  to  see  persons  belonging  to  our  class  joining  the 
rabble. » 

"Madame,*  said  Junot,  interrupting  her  with  a  smile, 
<(  I  ought  to  prevent  you  from  proceeding,  and  assure 
you  that  my  father  and  myself  are  of  the  same  opinion; 
and  I  must  confess  that  I  am  a  plebeian  and  a  stanch 
Republican. " 

The  young  soldier  bowed.  a  Well,  then, "  said  Madame 
de  Brionne  to  the  young  lady  who  had  previously  spoken 
to  her,  <(  there  are  many  of  our  young  coxcombs  at  Ver- 
sailles who  would  not  have  been  either  so  polite  or  so 
attentive  to  a  woman  of  my  age.* 

(<I  heard  it  distinctly,"  said  Junot,  <(  though  she  spoke 
in  a  whisper;  and  you  will  hardly  believe  that  one  of  the 
things  which  most  engaged  my  thoughts,  after  she  had 
spoken  of  it  herself,  was  to  inquire  her  age.  She  was 
still  a  superb  woman;  her  arms  and  hands  were  admira- 
bly beautiful." 

[  Madame  de  Brionne  was  about  fifty  at  the  time  of 
this  adventure;  if  anything  rather  more  than  less.] 

"Sir,"  said  she  to  Junot  at  the  moment  of  her  depar- 
ture, <(  accept  this  token  of  remembrance ;  I  hope  that  it 
may  serve  to  remind  you  of  one  who,  on  her  part,  will 
never  forget  what  you  have  had  the  kindness  to  do  for 
her."  This  token  of  remembrance  was  a  snuffbox  of 
white  shell,  with  a  portrait  of  Madame  de  Brionne.  Junot 
received  it  with  warm  expressions  of  thanks,  and  always 
kept  it,  notwithstanding  his  wandering  life.  A  singular 
adventure,  not  a  sequel  to  but  a  consequence  of  that 
which  I  have  just  related,  occurred  some  years  afterward. 

Some  time  after  the  victory  of  the  Tagliamento,  shortly 
before  the  Treaty  of  Leoben,  Junot,  being  at  Clagenfurth 
with  the  General-in-Chief,  received  a  visit  from  a  young 
German  officer  taken  prisoner  in  the  battle.  He  was 
handsome  and  a  man  of  polished  manners,  but  spoke 
French  very  ill.  In  other  respects  he  was  quite  a  gentle- 
man, for  he  introduced  himself  as  a  relative  of  Madame 
de  Brionne,  in  whose  name  he  solicited  Colonel  Junot's 
good  offices. 

From  what  Baron  de  Steyer  told  Junot,  it  appears  that 
Madame  de  Brionne  had  always  kept  her  eye  upon  him, 
and  that  the  newspapers,  in  which  his  name  frequently 
occurred,  had  furnished  her  with  honorable  intelligence 


i88  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

concerning  him.  She  had  recommended  to  the  Baron,  in 
case  he  should  meet  with  such  a  misfortune  as  to  be 
taken  prisoner,  to  mention  her  name  to  Colonel  Junot, 
and  solicit  his  influence.  The  confidence  of  Madame  de 
Brionne  was  not  disappointed.  Junot  received  the  young 
officer  in  the  most  cordial  manner;  he  asked  and  obtained 
for  him  his  liberation  on  parole  before  the  exchange  of 
prisoners.  My  husband  was  much  pleased  with  this  mark 
of  remembrance  on  the  part  of  Madame  de  Brionne, 
and  justly  so;  for  what  is  more  amiable  than  to  procure 
you  an  opportunity  for  doing  a  good  action,  and  to  prove 
that  one  has  relied  upon  you  ? 

This  little  story  is  not  foreign  to  what  precedes  it,  as 
the  reader  may  perceive.  The  young  man  to  whom  it 
relates  was  the  same  who,  from  his  fiery  courage  and 
impetuosity  of  character,  obtained  a  few  months  after- 
ward in  the  field  of  battle  the  appellation  of  La  Temptte 
from  his  brave  comrades.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that  this 
politeness,  which  must  have  been  innate  in  Junot,  for  it 
could  not  have  been  taught  him,  was  in  the  sequel  rather 
developed  than  stifled  by  the  remarkable  circumstances 
in  which  he  was  placed. 

The  preceding  story,  like  many  others,  is  not  quite  in 
its  proper  place.  But  this  is  a  fault  —  if  it  be  one  — 
inherent  to  these  Memoirs.  They  are  recollections  awak- 
ened by  recollections.  Touch  one  chord,  and  ten  others 
vibrate,  differing  in  sound,  but  combining  in  one  har- 
mony. So  do  not  be  surprised  if  I  sometimes  break  off 
one  story  to  begin  another. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  189 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Departure  of  Junot  for  Egypt  —  A  General  at  Twenty-seven  —  Mutual 
Relations  of  the  Generals  of  the  Army  of  Egypt  —  Parties  —  Quarrel 
between  Lanusse  and  Junot  —  Duel  by  Torchlight  on  the  Bank  of 
the  Nile  —  Remarkable  Observations  of  Napoleon — His  Horror  of 
Duels  —  Letter  from  Bonaparte  to  Junot  —  Junot  in  Egypt  after 
the  Departure  of  Bonaparte  —  Letter  from  Kleber — Departure  of 
Junot  —  Junot  and  General  Dumuy  Taken  by  the  English  —  Indig- 
nities from  an  English  Captain,  and  Noble  Conduct  of  Nelson 
—  Lady  Hamilton's  Oranges — Intimacy  of  Junot  and  Sir  Sidney 
Smith  —  Junot  Returns  to  France,  and  is  Appointed  Governor  of 
Paris. 

JUNOT  was  appointed  General  in  Egypt.  This  promo- 
tion, which  is  generally  a  desirable  thing,  especially 
at  Junot's  age  (he  was  then  twenty-seven),  was  NOT 
so  for  him.  He  had  to  leave  the  man  to  whom  he  was 
affectionately  attached,  and  was  even  removed  from  under 
his  observation;  the  army  was  not  numerous,  the  general 
officers  had  not  the  choice  of  their  cantonments,  and 
they  were  obliged  to  go  whithersoever  the  service  re- 
quired. 

Many  generals  have  been  strongly  attached  to  the  Em- 
peror; many  of  them,  by  the  ascendency  of  a  mighty 
genius,  though  they  were  Republicans,  continued  to  love 
him  even  after  his  coronation,  and  to  serve  him  faith- 
fully; but  nothing  ever  approached  that  blind,  that  pas- 
sionate devotedness  which  several  of  his  officers,  at  the 
head  of  whom  was  Junot,  cherished  for  him.  It  was  a 
fault  in  Napoleon  not  to  believe  the  reality  of  this  senti- 
ment, and  a  still  greater  to  show  that  he  disbelieved  it. 

It  is  well  known  that  there  was  a  schism  between  the 
chiefs  of  the  Army  of  Egypt;  it  was  the  camp  of  Agra- 
mant.  Napoleon's  party  was  the  most  numerous,  but  this 
division  was  extremely  prejudicial.  The  personal  danger 
of  each  party  rendered  it  more  irritable,  more  inflexible, 
especially  toward  the  opposite  faction.  Kleber,  Damas, 
and  a  great  number  of  generals  of  extraordinary  merit  in 
other  respects,  affected  to  withdraw  themselves  from  the 
authority  of  the  General-in-Chief. 

Among    the   generals    who    had    placed   themselves    in 


190  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

hostile  opposition  to  the  General-in-Chief  was  Lanusse, 
the  brother  of  him  who  lately  commanded  at  Besancpn. 
One  day  an  expression  so  horrible,  and  at  the  same  time 
so  alarming  for  the  safety  of  the  army,  was  reported  to 
Junot,  that  the  favorable  prepossessions  with  which  the 
bravery  of  Lanusse  had  inspired  him  were  from  that 
moment  utterly  destroyed.  <(  I  hated  him  at  last,"  said 
Junot  to  me  when  relating  the  circumstances  of  their 
quarrel.  Amicable  appearances  were  nevertheless  out- 
wardly kept  up,  but  their  hearts  were  estranged.*  One 
day  Murat,  wishing  to  reconcile  the  two  generals,  in- 
vited them  to  dine  with  him,  together  with  Lannes, 
Bessieres,  and  I  believe  Lavalette,  who  was  then  aid- 
de-camp  to  the  General-in-Chief. 

Dinner  passed  off  agreeably,  and  the  party  afterward 
went  to  play.  During  a  game  at  bouillotte  the  con- 
versation turned  on  a  military  operation  which  the  army 
was  about  to  make,  when  Lanusse  suffered  a  sarcastic 
smile  to  escape  him;  it  exasperated  Junot.  Bessieres, 
who  sat  next  to  him,  kept  him  quiet  for  a  few  moments. 
Lanusse,  misinterpreting  the  tranquillity  which  prevailed 
around  him,  continued  talking  about  the  state  of  the 
army  in  very  indecorous  terms. 

In  the  midst  of  his  observations  he  stopped  short,  and 
addressing  Junot :  (<  Junot, "  said  he,  <(  lend  me  ten  louis ; 
I  am  bankrupt.*  w  I  have  no  money  to  spare,"  replied 
Junot  dryly.  As  he  had  a  heap  of  gold  before  him, 
Lanusse,  eyeing  him  steadfastly,  rejoined:  "How  am  I 
to  take  your  answer,  Junot?"  "Just  as  you  please." 
(<  I  asked  you  to  lend  me  ten  of  the  louis  that  are  lying 
before  you. "  "  And  I  answer  that,  although  there  is 
money  before  me,  there  is  none  for  a  traitor  (traitre) 
like  you. "  <(  None  but  a  scoundrel  could  use  such  an  ex- 
pression," cried  Lanusse,  overcome  with  rage. 

In  a  moment  all  were  on  their  legs.  "  Junot !  Lanusse !  " 
cried  they,  endeavoring  to  soothe  them,  for,  at  the  epi- 
thet employed  by  Lanusse,  Junot  had  become  furious. 
All  at  once  he  appeared  calm.  "Hearken,  Lanusse," 
said  he  in  a  voice  the  mildness  of  which  formed  a 
strange  contrast  with  his  choleric  trembling,  "hearken 

*  They  had  previously  been  intimate,  and  I  know  that  Lanusse 
had  even  laid  my  husband  under  obligation.  I  take  pleasure  in 
acknowledging  this. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  I9I 

to  me;  I  called  you  a  traitor;  I  don't  think  you  are  so.* 
You  called  me  a  scoundrel;  you  don't  think  me  one,  for 
we  are  both  brave.  But,  look  you,  we  must  fight;  one 
of  us  must  die.  I  hate  you  because  you  hate  the  man 
whom  I  love  and  admire  as  much  as  God,  if  not  more.f 
We  must  fight,  and  that  immediately.  I  swear  that 
before  I  go  to  bed  to-night  this  affair  shall  be  settled ! w 

All  the  witnesses  of  the  scene  were  sensible  that  such 
words  as  had  been  exchanged  demanded  blood,  and  even 
life.  But  what  was  to  be  done?  The  General  had  pro- 
scribed duels;  he  would  not  have  any  in  his  army.  If 
the  affair  were  to  be  deferred  till  the  next  day  he  would 
know  of  it,  and  then  it  would  be  impossible  to  settle  it. 
Murat's  garden  was  spacious ;  it  sloped  down  to  the  Nile. 
Torches  were  lighted,  and  there  they  might  fight  that 
very  instant.  It  was  nine  o'clock  and  quite  dark. 

w  What  weapon  shall  we  take  ?  w  said  Junot.  <(  A  pretty 
question!"  said  Lanusse.  "Pistols,  to  be  sure.*  Everyone 
looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  He  had  been  insulted; 
according  to  the  laws  of  dueling  he  had  a  right  to  choose 
the  weapons  that  should  be  employed.  All  were  therefore 
surprised  that  he  should  prefer  one  which,  in  Junot's 
hand,  was  sure  to  prove  fatal.  It  is  well  known  that  he 
was  the  most  expert  marksman  with  the  pistol,  not  only 
in  France,  but  almost  in  Europe.  At  twenty-five  paces 
he  never  missed  an  ace,  and  could  cut  the  ball  in  two, 
and  that  exactly  in  the  middle,  against  the  blade  of  a 
knife.  (<  I  will  not  fight  you  with  pistols,  *  said  he  coolly 
to  Lanusse ;  <(  you  are  no  marksman,  you  could  not  hit  a 
barn  door.  We  ought  to  fight  upon  equal  terms.  We 
have  our  swords;  let  us  go. w 

Bessieres,  who  was  Junot's  second  with  Murat,  whis- 
pered to  him  that  he  was  a  foolish  fellow,  as  Lanusse 
was  a  capital  swordsman,  and  he  might  perhaps  stand  no 
chance  with  him.  <c  Consider,  too,"  said  Murat,  "that  it 
is  for  life  or  death."  Junot  would  not  listen  to  anything. 
They  proceeded  to  the  garden,  and  by  the  way  Lanusse 

*  Lanusse  was  remarkable  for  bravery,  and  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished officers  of  the  Army  of  Egypt. 

1 1  have  been  advised  to  omit  this  expression,  but  I  have  not  done 
so,  because  it  was  actually  used  by  Junot,  and,  being  acquainted 
with  his  religious  creed,  I  know  how  to  estimate  it.  He  was  not 
pious,  but  he  was  a  believer. 


192  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

again  raised  his  voice  and  employed  some  very  offensive 
expressions  with  reference  to  Junot  and  the  General-in- 
Chief. 

w  Lanusse,*  said  Junot,  (<  you  are  acting  now  like  a  man 
without  heart,  and  yet  you  are  a  brave  man;  one  would 
suppose  you  were  trying  to  screw  up  your  courage. * 
Lanusse  replied  with  a  volley  of  abuse. 

Lannes  silenced  him.  ((Come  along,  Lanusse, *  said  he 
in  the  energetic  manner  with  which  he  adorned  all  he 
said;  for  at  this  period,  and  even  much  later,  I  never 
heard  him  speak  two  words  but  the  third  was  an  oath. 
<(  Come  along;  hold  your  tongue;  you  are  going  to  cut 
one  another's  throats  —  what  the  devil  would  you  have 
more  ?  All  that  you  say  to  him  now  is  positively  thrown 
away. * 

When  they  were  on  the  ground  the  seconds  examined 
it,  and  they  had  a  good  mind  not  to  suffer  the  affair  to 
take  place  on  that  spot.  The  Nile,  after  its  periodical 
inundation,  had  left  inequalities  which  were  enough  to 
trip  a  person  up  at  every  step.  <(  If  it  were  but  day- 
light !*  said  Murat,  <(  but  you  cannot  fight  here.*  "Come 
on,*  said  Junot,  (<this  is  child's  play.*  Pulling  off  his 
coat,  he  drew  his  sword,  and  Lanusse  did  the  same. 

Junot  was  a  good  fencer.  He  was  nimble,  brave,  and 
perfectly  cool ;  but  wishing  to  finish  the  affair,  and  taking 
his  opportunity,  he  made  a  stroke  at  Lanusse,  which  cut 
the  crown  of  his  hat  and  spent  itself  on  his  cheek.  Had 
he  been  without  a  hat  he  must  have  been  killed.  Taking 
advantage  of  the  movement  which  had  left  Junot  exposed, 
he  gave  him  a  back-handed  cut,  which  laid  open  the 
abdomen  and  made  a  wound,  the  scar  of  which  was  more 
than  eight  inches  long.  Junot  was  removed  with  great 
difficulty.  The  nature  of  the  wound  was  most  serious  in 
a  country  where  inflammation  of  the  intestines  is  the 
chief  thing  to  be  dreaded.  But  he  was  surrounded  by 
persons  whose  talents  and  friendship  quickly  alleviated 
his  alarming  situation. 

The  General-in-Chief  was  furious  the  next  morning 
when  Desgenettes,  at  Junot's  desire,  informed  him  of  the 
occurrence.  <(  What !  *  cried  he ;  (<  are  they  determined 
to  cut  each  other's  throats  ?  Must  they  go  into  the  midst 
of  the  reeds  of  the  Nile  to  fight  among  the  crocodiles, 
and  leave  behind  for  them  the  body  of  the  one  that  shall 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTfcS  193 

have  fallen?  Have  they  not  enough,  then,  with  the 
Arabs,  the  plague,  and  the  Mamelukes?  You  deserve, 
Monsieur  Junot, w  said  he,  as  though  his  old  aid-de-camp 
had  been  present  — <(  you  richly  deserve  putting  under 
arrest  for  a  month  when  you  get  well." 

Such  were  the  very  words  of  Bonaparte.  He  went  to 
see  Junot  a  considerable  time  after  the  affair  —  that  is  to 
say,  when  Junot  was  almost  convalescent  —  for  at  first 
Napoleon  would  not  see  him,  saying  that  he  was  more 
culpable  than  Lanusse.  However,  the  very  next  day, 
when  apprised  of  the  result  and  cause  of  the  duel,  he 
exclaimed:  (<  My  poor  Junot!  Wounded  for  me!  But, 
then,  the  idiot!  why  did  he  not  fight  with  pistols ? " 

When  Bonaparte  left  Egypt,  Junot  was  at  Suez,  where 
he  commanded.  It  is  well  known  how  secret  the  depar- 
ture was  kept.  How  kind  and  affectionate  is  the  letter 
which  he  sent  on  this  occasion  to  Junot!  It  is  as  follows: 

^Bonaparte,  General-in-Chief,  Member  of  the  Institute,  to  the  Gen- 
eral of  Brigade,    Junot. 

« I  am  leaving  Egypt,  my  dear  Junot,  and  you  are  too  far  from  the 
place  of  embarkation  for  me  to  take  you  with  me.  But  I  shall  leave 
orders  with  Kleber  to  let  you  set  out  in  the  course  of  October.  Be 
assured  that,  in  whatever  place  and  in  whatever  situation  I  may  be,  I 
will  give  you  positive  proofs  of  the  affectionate  friendship  which  I  have 

vowed  to  you. — Health  and  friendship. 

<(  BONAPARTE." 

Kleber  wished  to  keep  Junot,  but  he  would  not  stay. 
He  could  not  meet  with  a  vessel  to  return  to  Europe, 
and  it  was  painful  to  him  to  be  far  distant  from  his 
country  and  from  the  man  who  alone  had  enabled  him 
to  endure  the  separation.  At  length  he  spoke  out  with 
such  energy  and  feeling  that  Kleber  gave  him  permis- 
sion to  depart  in  the  following  letter: 

«  Kleber,  General-in-Chief,  to  the  General  of  Brigade,  Juneau* 

«The  feeling  of  gratitude  which  you  express  so  well,  and  which 
attaches  you  to  General  Bonaparte,  only  augments  the  esteem  which  I 
entertain  for  you.  You  shall  go,  General,  and  I  have  ordered  General 
Damas  to  furnish  you  with  a  passport  immediately ;  it  grieves  me  ex- 
ceedingly that  I  cannot  give  you  in  any  other  way  the  assurance  of 
my  sincere  and  cordial  attachment. 

«  KLEBER. » 

*  An  orthographical  blunder  would  be  nothing  more  than  one  might 
expect  of  Kleber,  who  did  not  pride  himself  on  being  able  to  write 
French ;  but  it  is  surprising  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  spell  Junot's 
name. 

13 


194  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

Notwithstanding  the  apparent  frankness  of  this  letter, 
Kleber  caused  his  departure  to  be  attended  with  unpleas- 
ant circumstances.  A  report  was  circulated  in  the  army 
that  Junot  was  carrying  away  the  treasures  found  in  the 
Pyramids  by  the  General-in-Chief.  (C  He  could  not  carry 
them  away  himself B  (such  was  the  language  held  to  the 
soldiers),  <(and  so  the  man  who  possesses  all  his  confidence 
is  now  taking  them  to  him." 

The  matter  was  carried  so  far  that  several  subalterns 
and  soldiers  proceeded  to  the  shore,  and  some  of  them 
went  on  board  the  merchantman  which  was  to  sail  with 
Junot  the  same  evening.  They  rummaged  about,  but 
found  nothing.  At  length  they  came  to  a  prodigious 
chest,  which  ten  men  could  not  move,  between  decks. 
"Here  is  the  treasure !  w  cried  the  soldiers;  <(  here  is  our 
pay  that  has  been  kept  from  us  above  a  year.  Where  is 
the  key  ?  » 

Junot's  valet,  an  honest  German,  shouted  to  them  in 
vain,  with  all  his  might,  that  the  chest  did  not  belong 
to  his  chenerdl.  They  would  not  listen  to  him.  Unluck- 
ily Junot,  who  was  not  to  embark  till  evening,  was  not 
then  on  board.  The  mutineers  seized  a  hatchet,  and  be- 
gan to  cut  away  at  the  chest,  which  they  would  soon 
have  broken  up  had  not  the  ship's  carpenter  come  run- 
ning quite  out  of  breath.  w  What  the  devil  are  you  at,w 
cried  he,  "madmen  that  you  are?  Hi!  stop!  Don't  de- 
stroy my  chest;  here  is  the  key. w  He  opened  it  imme- 
diately, and  lo !  the  tools  of  the  master  carpenter  of  the  ship. 

A  scene  like  this  wounded  Junot  to  his  heart's  core. 
To  be  suspected  of  such  baseness  was  to  him  a  deep  in- 
jury; but  to  suspect  his  General  of  a  CRIME  of  which  he 
was  less  capable  than  any  other  —  he,  the  father  of  the 
soldier !  Junot  deemed  the  charge  beneath  both  of  them. 
He  could  have  proved  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  bor- 
row a  thousand  crowns  for  his  return  to  Europe,  but  he 
should  soon  see  again  his  own  dear  country,  the  man  who 
was  not  less  dear,  and  his  family.  In  short,  the  feelings 
that  crowded  upon  his  ardent  soul  (so  well  fitted  to  en- 
joy all  the  happiness  that  he  anticipated)  neutralized  his 
indignation;  he  quitted  that  ancient  Egypt,  from  which 
he  carried  away  nothing  except  glory,  without  regret 
and  without  remorse,  and,  turning  his  face  toward  Eu- 
rope, thought  of  nothing  but  France. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  195 

The  odious  calumny,  the  stupid  invention,  relative  to 
the  treasures  of  the  Pharaohs,  had  meanwhile  found  be- 
lievers elsewhere,  as  well  as  in  the  army.  The  English, 
for  example,  had  been  simple  enough  to  give  credit  to 
this  story.  A  ship  was  even  cruising  off  Alexandria,  and 
the  merchantman  in  which  Junot  had  sailed  was  obliged 
to  bring-to  at  the  first  summons  of  the  *  Theseus w  man- 
of-war,  Captain  Steele;  while  Junot  and  his  aid-de-camp, 
Captain  Lallemand,  had  not  the  power  to  make  the  least 
resistance,  how  well  disposed  soever  they  might  have 
been  to  do  so.* 

Captain  Steele  was  the  most  impertinent  of  men,  and 
everybody  knows  that  when  the  English  take  up  the  pro- 
fession of  impertinence  they  are  adepts  in  it.  Junot  was 
a  prisoner,  and  an  unhappy  prisoner;  all  that  could  aggre- 
vate  the  pain  of  his  disagreeable  situation  was  probably 
studied  overnight  in  the  head  of  the  captain,  that  it 
might  be  put  in  practice  the  next  morning.  Junot  had 
with  him  General  Dumuy,  the  oldest  General  of  Division 
in  the  French  army;  he  was  no  longer  young,  and  was 
invested  with  a  rank  which  ought  to  have  insured  him 
not  only  respect,  but  honor,  especially  among  military  men. 

Well,  poor  General  Dumuy  was  not  only  ill-used,  which 
was  cruel,  but  hoaxed,  which  was  infamous.  Junot  would 
not  put  up  with  any  jokes,  and  I  have  no  need  to  observe 
that  it  would  have  been  dangerous  to  make  the  experi- 
ment with  him.  Captain  Lallemand,  on  his  part,  was  not 
more  complaisant;  one  day  he  well-nigh  threw  overboard 
a  petty  officer  who  had  amused  himself  by  playing  him 
a  TRICK,  as  he  called  it.  Accordingly  Junot  and  he  were 
at  least  respected. 

At  length,  after  enduring  for  four  months  a  treatment 
which  daily  became  more  harsh  and  insupportable,  Junot 
spoke  out,  and  with  such  effect  that  Captain  Steele  was 
obliged  to  tack  about  and  carry  his  victims  to  Jaffa,  to 
be  delivered  up  to  Commodore  Sir  Sidney  Smith.  I  shall 
speak  of  Sir  Sidney  by  and  by;  at  present  I  shall  only 
say  that  he  was  most  polite  to  the  prisoners,  and  par- 
ticularly to  Junot,  but  he  could  not  keep  them,  and  for- 
warded them  by  way  of  Cyprus  o  Arnetta,  to  be  thence 

*They  left  Alexandria  at  eight  in  the  evening,  and  were  taken 
about  midnight  by  the  English.  «We  were  waiting  for  you,»  said 

the  latter. 


196  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

dispatched  to  Toulon  in  the  ship  (<  Le  Vaillant ;  w  but  it  was 
necessary  that  an  English  officer  should  first  go  to  Palermo 
to  receive  the  orders  of  Nelson,  who  was  there  with  Lady 
Hamilton. 

The  day  after  (<  Le  Vaillant w  had  anchored  in  the  harbor 
of  Palermo,  a  very  elegant  barge,  manned  by  a  dozen 
rowers  dressed  in  white,  and  wearing  black  velvet  caps 
ornamented  with  a  silver  leopard,  came  to  reconnoiter  the 
frigate.  Junot  was  in  his  cabin  at  the  moment  with 
General  Dumuy.  The  Captain  of  (<  Le  Vaillant w  went  down 
to  them  and  told  them  with  the  more  arrogance,  because 
he  fancied  that  he  was  backed,  <(  Come  up  on  deck,  gen- 
tlemen; our  hero,  the  great  Admiral  Nelson,  wishes  to 
see  the  French  prisoners. *  Junot  eyed  the  Captain, 
then,  turning  his  head,  he  appeared  to  be  looking  round 
about  him. 

(<  Am  I  to  understand  that  it  is  to  me  and  the  General 
that  you  are  speaking  ? w  said  he.  The  Captain  bowed. 
<(  And  have  you  the  courage  to  execute  this  commission  ? 
Well,  take  back  this  answer,  at  least  as  far  as  I  and  my 
officers  are  concerned;  go  and  tell  your  Admiral  —  who  to 
me  is  neither  a  hero  nor  a  great  man,  for  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  a  measure  that  would  be  far  too  large  for  him 
—  go  and  tell  him  that  I  am  not  his  prisoner,  but  the 
prisoner  of  his  Government;  that  if  I  were  I  would  not 
obey  an  order  given  with  the  brutality  with  which  you 
would  treat  strange  beasts  that  you  might  have  brought 
from  Egypt,  and  of  which  you  were  the  keeper.  If 
Admiral  Nelson  wishes  to  see  me  he  knows  where  to 
find  me.  Say  further,  he  is  my  superior,  his  rank  is 
higher  than  mine;  had  he  civilly  expressed  a  desire  to 
see  me  I  would  have  gone  to  him  that  instant.  Now  the 
insult  is  offered  it  is  too  late  for  him  to  recede.  I  do 
not  seek  to  impose  my  opinions  upon  anyone, M  continued 
Junot,  turning  to  General  Dumuy,  who,  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  discussion  kept  close  behind  him,  jog- 
ging his  elbow,  and  pulling  a  face  that  was  enough  to 
make  the  merriest  cry  or  the  most  sorrowful  laugh.  <(  I 
have  said  what  I  thought,  and  what  I  would  do,  that  is 
all;  you  are  at  liberty  to  act  as  you  please. w  The  good 
man,  if  he  had  had  his  own  way,  would  have  gone  up 
on  deck,  and  walked  about  somewhat  after  the  manner 
of  a  white  bear  in  his  den. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  197 

The  Captain  delivered  Junot's  answer  to  Nelson,  who 
had  the  spirit  to  feel  the  full  force  of  it.  Junot,  in  his 
spleen,  had  said  what  he  was  far  from  thinking,  for  he 
admired  Nelson,  and  did  not  conceal  it;  but  how  can  you 
abstain  entirely  from  offensive  language  when  a  victorious 
enemy  would  insult  you  ? 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that  Junot's  conduct  was  appreci- 
ated by  Nelson;  for  the  same  evening  he  sent  him  a 
large  basket  filled  with  fruit,  preserves,  and  some  bottles 
of  claret.  Lady  Hamilton  had  added  some  oranges  to  the 
present.  Junot  rightly  thought  that  it  would  show  bad  taste 
to  refuse  it;  he  therefore  accepted  it,  and  expressed  his 
thanks  with  a  gratitude  which  he  really  felt.  After 
all,  if  what  he  had  said  to  the  Captain  was  faithfully 
reported  to  the  Admiral,  this  tacit  reparation  of  his 
affront,  or  perhaps  of  that  offered  by  the  Captain  of 
the  w  Theseus, w  argues  great  magnanimity  in  his  char- 
acter. 

Nelson,  however,  canceled  Sir  Sidney  Smith's  orders 
for  the  return  of  the  prisoners  to  France,  and  they  were 
conveyed  to  Port  Mahon,  there  to  await  the  answer  of 
the  Admiralty.  That  answer  could  not  be  doubtful,  but 
it  might  be  delayed  some  time,  and  to  remain  longer 
under  the  yoke  of  the  Captain  of  the  frigate  was  beyond 
the  bounds  of  human  patience. 

Sir  Sidney  Smith  appeared  to  Junot  under  an  aspect 
which,  though  different  from  that  of  Nelson,  was  not 
more  encouraging  in  regard  to  social  life,  and  the  inter- 
course which  there  must  be  between  two  men  living,  if 
not  under  the  same  roof,  on  the  same  deck,  and  which 
was  about  to  be  established  between  them.  General 
Bonaparte  was  not  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  real  cause 
of  the  disasters  consequent  upon  the  long  resistance  of 
St.  Jean  d'Acre.  In  his  mind,  Sir  Sidney  Smith  and 
those  disasters  were  inseparable. 

Those  around  him,  who  so  easily  caught  the  reflection 
of  his  enmities  and  his  friendships,  when,  like  Junot  in 
particular,  they  lived  in  his  life,  beheld  in  Sir  Sidney  a 
man  to  whom  General  Bonaparte  had  a  strong  dislike, 
and  to  whom,  of  course,  they  took  a  dislike  also. 
<c  Nevertheless, "  said  Junot  to  me  one  day,  "the  Em- 
peror always  regarded  Sir  Sidney  Smith  as  a  man  of 
honor,  and  he  said  as  much;  only  he  thought  him  mad; 


198  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

and  he  could  not  comprehend,  he  said,  how  a  sensible 
man  could  attempt  such  insane  things. w 

The  first  moments  were  of  course  irksome ;  but  this 
did  not  last  long.  Sir  Sidney  and  Junot,  when  they  be- 
came acquainted,  conceived  a  high  esteem  for  one  another. 
Junot  said  that  Sir  Sidney  was  chivalry  personified,  with 
all  its  bravery  and  generosity.  They  passed  together 
about  two  months,  which  would  have  appeared  short 
to  Junot  had  he  not  been  anxious  to  return  to  France. 
Every  consideration  was  absorbed  by  that  desire,  which 
became  a  real  homesickness.  Sir  Sidney  perceived  it, 
and  strove  to  expedite  his  return  to  France,  as  if  he  had 
been  his  own  brother.  It  was  to  the  active  influence  of 
Sir  Sidney  Smith  that  Junot  was  indebted  for  the  cartel 
of  exchange,  the  original  of  which  I  have  carefully  pre- 
served. It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark  that  ten 
English  prisoners  were  released  in  exchange  for  him. 

Junot  continued  to  cherish  the  most  affectionate  regard 
for  the  Commodore.  Notwithstanding  the  war,  they 
wrote  and  sent  presents  to  one  another.  In  spite  of  all 
his  efforts,  however,  Sir  Sidney  could  not  obtain  the 
entire  exchange  of  Junot,  who  could  not  serve  against 
England  till  the  business  was  finally  settled. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  Returned  Emigrants  —  Portraits  from  Nature  —  MM.  de  Bouille 
and  Madame  de  Contades  —  Drawing-Room  Scenes  —  My  Mother's 
Ball  —  The  Rival  Beauties  —  Madame  Leclerc's  Ears — My  Mother's 
Conversation  with  Paulette  —  MM.  de  Perigord  —  Despreaux's  As- 
semblies. 

AMONG  the  ladies  who  had  recently  returned  to  France, 
and    who    were    frequent  visitors    at    my    mother's 
house,   there    was    one    who    is    still  vividly  present 
to  my  recollection  as    though  I  had  seen  her  only  a  few 
days  since.     This  was  Madame  de  Contades,  the  daughter 
and  sister  of  the  MM.  de  Bouille"  who  distinguished  them- 
selves at  the  affair  of  Varennes. 

Madame    de  Contades  was    a  person  whose    appearance 
never  failed  to  make  a  profound  impression  at  first  sight. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  199 

She  was  not  remarkable  for  beauty,  but  there  was  some- 
thing very  pleasing  about  her.  There  was  an  expression 
in  her  look  and  smile  which  I  never  observed  in  any 
but  one  woman  besides  herself.  She  was  not  gloomy, 
far  from  it ;  and  yet  one  could  scarcely  venture  to  laugh 
in  her  presence  unless  she  first  set  the  example.  When 
she  turned  round  her  goddesslike  head,  crowned  with 
luxuriant  black  hair,  and  cast  a  glance  at  anyone,  that 
look  was  a  command  which  exacted  obedience. 

Her  hatred  of  Bonaparte  was  exceedingly  amusing. 
She  would  not  grant  him  the  merit  of  deserving  his 
military  fame.  <(  Pshaw!  M  she  would  say  when  my  mother 
spoke  of  his  victories  in  Italy  and  Egypt;  "I  could  do 
as  much  with  a  look.*  She  was  no  less  diverting  when 
Bonaparte's  sisters  came  under  her  review.  She  would 
not  acknowledge  the  beauty  of  Madame  Leclerc  any 
more  than  the  glory  of  her  brother.  Her  eccentric  opin- 
ion on  this  subject  once  gave  rise  to  a  tragi-comic  inci- 
dent at  my  mother's  house. 

Bonaparte  had  just  departed  for  Egypt;  and  the  differ- 
ent members  of  his  family,  bright  with  the  reflections 
of  the  glory  he  had  cast  upon  them  during  his  brief 
stay  in  Paris,  had  already  commenced  their  novitiate  of 
royalty.  Madame  Leclerc,  who  had  a  taste  for  abso- 
lute power,  was  nothing  loath  to  unite  the  influence 
of  her  brother's  reputation  to  that  of  her  own  beauty. 
That  beauty,  indeed,  appeared  so  perfect  that  nobody 
ever  thought  of  disputing  it.  As  her  dominion  as  yet 
consisted  only  of  her  beauty,  she  spared  no  pains  to 
make  the  most  of  it;  and  in  this  she  certainly  suc- 
ceeded, when  she  did  not,  as  unfortunately  too  often 
happened,  display  the  airs  of  an  insufferable,  spoiled  child. 

One  evening  my  mother  gave  a  ball  at  her  residence 
in  the  Rue  Sainte  Croix.  She  had  invited,  according  to 
her  custom,  the  most  select  society  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain.  As  to  the  other  party,  the  only  indi- 
viduals belonging  to  it  were  the  Bonaparte  family,  and 
a  few  gentlemen,  who,  like  M.  de  Trenis,  were  fine 
dancers,  and  were  for  that  reason  regularly  invited  by 
the  few  families  who  gave  parties  at  that  time. 

Madame  Leclerc  informed  us  that  she  had  prepared 
for  the  occasion  a  dress  which,  to  use  her  own  expres- 
sion, she  expected  would  IMMORTALIZE  HER.  This  dress 


200  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

was  a  subject  of  the  most  serious  consideration  with  her, 
at  least  a  week  before  she  was  destined  to  wear  it,  and 
she  enjoined  the  strictest  secrecy  on  Madame  Germon 
and  Charbonnier.*  She  requested  permission  to  dress  at 
our  house,  which  she  frequently  did  in  order  that  she 
might  enter  the  ballroom  with  her  dress  completely 
fresh  and  in  all  its  beauty. 

Only  those  who  knew  Madame  Leclerc  at  that  time 
can  form  any  idea  of  the  impression  she  produced  on 
entering  my  mother's  drawing-room.  The  headdress 
consisted  of  bandelettes  of  a  very  soft  fine  kind  of  fur, 
of  a  tiger  pattern.  These  bandelettes  were  surmounted 
by  bunches  of  grapes  in  gold;  but  the  hair  was  not 
dressed  so  high  as  it  is  now  worn.  She  was  a  faithful 
copy  of  a  Bacchante,  such  as  are  seen  in  antique  statues 
or  cameos;  and  in  truth,  the  form  of  Madame  Leclerc's 
head,  and  the  classic  regularity  of  her  features,  embold- 
ened her  to  attempt  an  imitation  which  would  have  been 
hazardous  in  most  women. 

Her  robe  of  exquisitely  fine  India  muslin  had  a  deep 
bordering  of  gold;  the  pattern  was  of  grapes  and  vine 
leaves.  With  this  she  wore  a  tunic  of  the  purest  Greek 
form,  with  a  bordering  similiar  to  her  dress,  which  dis- 
played her  fine  figure  to  admirable  advantage.  This 
tunic  was  confined  on  the  shoulders  by  cameos  of  great 
value.  The  sleeves,  which  were  very  short,  were  lightly 
gathered  on  small  bands  which  were  also  fastened  with 
cameos.  Her  girdle,  which  was  placed  below  the  bosom, 
as  is  seen  in  the  Greek  statues,  consisted  of  a  gold  band, 
the  clasp  of  which  was  a  superbly  cut  antique  stone. 
She  entered  the  drawing-room  without  her  gloves,  dis- 
playing her  beautiful  white  round  arms,  which  were 
adorned  with  gold  bracelets. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  effect  her  appearance 
produced.  Her  entrance  seemed  absolutely  to  illumine 
the  room.  The  perfect  harmony  in  every  part  of  the 
beautiful  whole  elicited  a  buzz  of  admiration,  which  was 
not  very  complimentary  to  the  other  ladies  present.  The 
gentlemen  all  thronged  round  her  as  she  advanced 
toward  a  seat  which  my  mother  had  reserved  for  her,  for 
Paulette  was  a  particular  favorite  of  my  mother's,  who, 
indeed,  regarded  her  almost  as  her  own  child. 

*  A  milliner  and  a  hairdresser  at  that  time  much  in  favor. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  201 

The  ladies  were  all  much  piqued  at  the  beauty  and 
the  elegant  dress  of  Mademoiselle  Bonaparte,  the  wife  of 
General  Leclerc.  They  whispered  to  one  another,  but 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  Paulette,  that  such  an  im- 
pudent display  of  extravagance  was  exceedingly  unbe- 
coming in  a  woman  who  had  been  almost  starved  only 
three  years  before.  But  these  expressions  of  female  envy 
were  speedily  drowned  by  the  admiration  of  the  other  sex. 

The  beauty  of  Madame  de  Contades  was  entirely 
eclipsed,  and  soon  after  Madame  Leclerc's  entrance  she 
found  herself  abandoned  by  her  circle  of  admirers ;  or  if 
any  of  them  approached  her,  it  was  only  to  make  some 
provoking  remark  complimentary  to  the  charms  of  Paul- 
ette. <(  Give  me  your  arm, }>  said  she  to  a  gentleman  near 
her,  and  the  next  moment  the  Diana-like  figure  of  Ma- 
dame de  Contades  was  seen  moving  across  the  drawing- 
room  and  advancing  toward  Madame  Leclerc. 

The  latter  had  withdrawn  to  my  mother's  boudoir, 
because,  she  said,  the  heat  of  the  drawing-room  and  the 
motion  of  the  dancers  made  her  ill;  though,  I  believe, 
the  true  reason  was  that  a  long  sofa  in  the  boudoir 
afforded  her  the  opportunity  of  displaying  her  graceful 
figure  and  attitudes  to  the  best  advantage.  This  ma- 
noeuver,  however,  proved  unlucky  for  her. 

The  room  was  small  and  brilliantly  lighted;  and  as 
Madame  Leclerc  reclined  upon  the  sofa  a  stream  of  light 
descended  full  upon  her  head.  Madame  de  Contades 
looked  at  her  attentively;  and  instead  of  making  any  of 
the  ill-natured  observations  which  had  fallen  from  the 
other  ladies,  she  first  admired  the  dress,  then  the  figure, 
then  the  face.  Returning  a  second  time  to  the  coiffure, 
she  expatiated  on  its  taste  and  elegance;  then  suddenly 
turning  to  the  gentleman  on  whose  arm  she  was  lean- 
ing, she  exclaimed,  <(  Ah,  man  Dicu!  uwn  Dieu!  how  un- 
fortunate that  such  a  pretty  woman  should  be  deformed! 
Did  you  never  observe  it  ?  What  a  pity  it  is ! }) 

Had  these  exclamations  been  uttered  in  the  drawing- 
room  it  is  probable  that  the  sound  of  the  music  and  the 
dancing  would  have  drowned  Madame  de  Contades's  voice, 
though  she  generally  spoke  in  a  pretty  loud  tone;  as  it 
was,  every  word  resounded  through  the  little  boudoir, 
and  the  scarlet  which  suffused  the  face  of  Madame  Leclerc 
was  much  too  deep  to  improve  her  beauty. 


202  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

Madame  de  Contades  fixed  her  eyes  of  fire  on  Paulette, 
as  if  she  would  look  her  through,  and  the  tone  of  com- 
passion in  which  she  uttered  the  words,  <(  What  a  pity !  M 
sufficiently  informed  Paulette  that  her  triumph  was  at  an 
end.  All  this  (which  perhaps  I  have  described  with 
rather  too  much  prolixity)  took  place  in  the  space  of 
little  more  than  a  minute;  but  these  details  are  neces- 
sary to  show  the  mode  in  which  the  attack  was  man- 
aged, and  the  success  with  which  a  woman  of  ingenuity 
may  avenge  her  wounded  vanity. 

<(  What  is  the  matter  ? w  inquired  some  one  who  stood 
near  Madame  de  Contades.  <(  The  matter !  w  said  she.  <(  do 
you  not  see  the  two  enormous  ears  which  disfigure  either 
side  of  her  head.  I  declare  if  I  had  such  a  pair  of  ears 
I  would  have  them  cut  off,  and  I  will  advise  Madame 
Leclerc  to  do  so.  There  can  be  no  harm  in  advising  a 
woman  to  have  her  ears  cut  off. w 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  toward  Madame  Leclerc 's 
head,  not,  as  before,  to  admire  it,  but  to  wonder  at  the 
deformity  with  which  its  beauty  was  disfigured.  The 
truth  is,  that  Nature  must  have  been  in  one  of  her  most 
capricious  moods  when  she  placed  two  such  ears  on  the 
right  and  left  of  a  charming  face.  They  were  merely 
pieces  of  thin  white  cartilage,  almost  without  any  curl- 
ing; but  this  cartilage  was  not  enormous,  as  Madame  de 
Contades  said;  it  was  merely  ugly,  by  contrast  with  the 
beautiful  features  which  accompanied  it. 

A  young  woman  but  little  accustomed  to  society  is 
easily  embarrassed;  this  was  the  case  with  Madame 
Leclerc  when  she  read  in  the  faces  of  her  surrounding 
admirers  the  effect  produced  by  the  remarks  af  Madame 
de  Contades.  The  result  of  this  scene  was  that  Paulette 
burst  into  tears,  and  on  the  plea  of  indisposition  retired 
before  midnight.  Next  morning  my  mother  went  to  see 
her.  She,  of  course,  said  nothing  about  the  ears,  which 
were  then  concealed  beneath  a  nightcap  trimmed  with 
lace ;  for  Madame  Leclerc  was  in  the  habit  of  receiving 
visits,  even  the  most  formal  ones,  in  bed.  She  took  her 
revenge  by  assailing  Madame  de  Contades,  whom  she 
certainly  did  not  spare.  My  mother  allowed  her  to  go 
on  for  some  time,  for  she  was  aware  that  she  had  been 
deeply  piqued. 

<(  I  cannot  imagine, w  said  Madame    Leclerc,  ((  what  can 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfiS  203 

make  that  great  tall  Maypole  such  a  favorite  with  all 
the  men !  I  am  sure  there  are  many  women  much  more 
attractive  in  the  circle  of  your  acquaintance.  There  was 
one  who  sat  near  her  last  evening  in  your  drawing-room, 
whom  I  think  much  handsomer;  and  she  was  very  well 
dressed,  too.  She  had  a  robe  and  Grecian  tunic,  just 
like  mine.  But,M  added  she,  in  as  serious  a  tone  as  though 
she  had  been  speaking  of  the  most  important  affair  in 
the  world,  <(hers  was  embroidered  in  silver,  and  mine  in 
gold.  That  did  not  become  hei :  she  is  not  fair  enough 
for  silver.* 

Patience  was  not  my  mother's  virtue ;  and  on  hearing  this 
she  rose  from  her  chair,  evidently  displeased.  <(  Paulette," 
said  she,  (<my  dear  girl,  you  are  crazy  —  absolutely  crazy!  M 
The  person  of  whom  Madame  Leclerc  was  speaking  was 
a  little  fat  woman  with  a  short  neck  and  turned-up  nose, 
and  so  extremely  shortsighted  that  she  was  continually 
winking  her  eyes.  In  a  word,  she  was  the  very  reverse 
of  Madame  de  Contades. 

tt  I  assure  you,  Madame  Permon,  I  think  Madame 
Chauvelin  an  elegant  woman;  she  is  clever,  too,  without 
being  satirical. "  <(  Whether  Madame  Chauvelin  be  elegant 
or  not  is  a  matter  of  very  little  consequence, w  replied 
my  mother;  <(as  to  her  cleverness,  I  know  she  has  a  good 
deal.  But,  my  dear  Paulette,  you  are  strangely  mistaken 
if  you  live  in  the  belief  that  she  is  not  satirical  when 
anything  of  a  ridiculous  kind  presents  itself  to  her  notice. 
She  can  observe,  shortsighted  as  she  is.w  This  affair 
set  Madame  Leclerc  for  a  long  time  in  violent  hostility 
to  Madame  de  Contades;  though  I  am  sure  the  latter 
lady  never  thought  of  it  from  the  moment  she  put  on 
her  shawl  to  leave  my  mother's  party. 

About  this  period  M.  de  Talleyrand  had  persuaded  a 
great  portion  of  his  family  to  return  from  emigration. 
His  two  brothers,  Archambaud  and  Bozon  de  Perigord, 
came  to  France.  The  former  had  been  forced  to  fly  to 
save  his  life,  and  left  behind  him  a  wife  and  three 
children.  His  wife  died  shortly  after  his  departure.  M. 
Louis  Perigord,  the  eldest  of  his  three  children,  was  a 
man  whose  rare  qualities  rendered  him  an  ornament  to 
society.  He  enjoyed  the  favor  of  Bonaparte,  who  knew 
how  to  appreciate  merit. 

There  was  a  lady,   a    friend   of    my    mother,    who  like 


204  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

her  had  the  courage  to  receive  company  and  give  balls 
at  this  time.  This  was  Madame  de  Caseaux,  wife  of  the 
President  of  the  Parliament  of  Bordeaux.  She  was  a  dis- 
tant relation  of  M.  Talleyrand.  She  had  an  only  daughter, 
Laure  de  Caseaux,  who  was  then  the  richest  heiress  in 
France.  The  fortune  of  M.  de  Caseaux  was  estimated  at 
eight  or  nine  millions  of  francs.  Madame  de  Caseaux 
occupied  the  Hotel  de  Perigord  in  the  Rue  I'Universite*, 
which  now  belongs  to  Marshal  Soult.  There  she  gave, 
in  the  suite  of  apartments  on  the  ground  floor,  the  first 
splendid  balls  which  took  place  in  Paris  after  the  Revolu- 
tion. But  these  balls  represented  the  Faubourg  Saint 
Germain  in  all  its  purity ;  and  I  do  not  recollect  having 
seen  the  face  of  any  individual  of  the  opposite  party  ex- 
cept Junot,  and  that  not  until  after  our  marriage. 

There  was  another  house  in  Paris  at  which  good  com- 
pany and  agreeable  parties  were  to  be  met,  though  money 
was  paid  for  admittance.  This  was  the  house  of  Despreaux, 
the  fashionable  dancing  master.  I  was  his  pupil,  and  at 
first  these  assemblies  consisted  only  of  his  pupils;  but 
they  soon  became  so  fashionable  that  Despreaux  was 
obliged  to  remove  to  a  larger  house  in  order  to  receive 
all  who  wished  to  subscribe  to  them. 

It  was  there  I  first  met  Mademoiselle  Perregaux,  be- 
fore she  was  married  to  General  Marmont.  She  used  to 
be  accompanied  by  a  sort  of  governante,  who,  instead  of 
having  any  control  over  her,  appeared  to  be  entirely  sub- 
missive to  her  authority.  Mademoiselle  Perregaux  was 
pretty,  but  my  mother  could  never  reconcile  herself  to 
the  freedom  of  her  manners.  Madame  Bonaparte  some- 
times brought  her  daughter  to  Despreaux's  assemblies. 
Hortense  de  Beauharnais  was  then  a  charming  girl,  but 
I  will  take  another  opportunity  of  drawing  her  portrait; 
it  deserves  to  be  more  than  a  light  sketch. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  205 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  i8th  of  Fructidor  —  Hoche  —  Probable  Manner  of  His  Death  —  Ma- 
dame de  Re c  and  Madame  Tallien  —  Flags   Presented  to  the 

Directory  by  Junot  —  Madame   Bonaparte  —  Junot   Escorts   Her  to 
Italy  —  Mademoiselle  Louise. 

AN  EVENT  which  took  place  immediately  after  the  i8th 
of  Fructidor  overwhelmed  us  with  grief,  for  we 
were  intimately  acquainted  with  the  relatives  and 
friends  of  the  victim  who  was  sacrificed.  I  here  allude 
to  the  death  of  Hoche,  which  may  be  regarded  as  an 
event  in  the  history  of  our  Revolution.  The  loss  of 
Joubert  and  Hoche  have  usually  been  regarded  as  military 
misfortunes,  like  the  fate  of  Marceaux,  and  subsequently 
of  Desaix,  but  the  case  was  different.  With  his  military 
talent  Hoche  combined  extensive  abilities  of  various 
kinds,  and  he  was  a  citizen  as  well  as  a  soldier.  When 
he  was  sent  to  La  Vendee  he  quelled  dissension,  more 
perhaps  by  his  talents  and  conciliating  manners  than  by 
his  sword,  though  he  could  use  it  well.  Like  Joubert,  he 
loved  and  revered  his  country. 

I  did  not  know  much  of  General  Hoche  personally, 
but  since  his  death  I  have  been  furnished  with  some 
curious  details  respecting  him.  When  his  death  was 
made  known,  the  public  voice  rose  in  an  accusing  out- 
cry against  the  Directory.  I  am  satisfied  that  Hoche 
was  the  constant  object  of  the  hatred  of  a  party  then 
unfortunately  powerful,  though  acting  in  the  shade.  It 
was  discovered  that  the  sum  of  800,000  francs  had  been 
embezzled,  and  it  was  alleged  that  the  Commander  of 
the  Army  of  the  Sambre  and  the  Meuse  had  divided  it 
among  the  officers  of  his  staff.  A  lady  for  whom  Hoche 
cherished  a  deep  interest,  and  who  is  living  at  the  time 
I  write,  received  from  him  at  the  time  letters  in  which 
he  begged  her  to  raise  some  money  by  way  of  loan  at 
any  price.  (<  Above  all, w  said  he  in  one  of  these  letters, 
a  I  should  blush  if  France  knew  that  one  of  the  Generals- 
in-Chief  of  her  armies  should  be  obliged  to  borrow  money 
to  replace  the  horses  which  have  been  killed  under  him 
by  the  enemy's  bullets. B 


206  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

Nothing,  it  appears  to  me,  can  be  more  conclusive  than 
the  language  of  a  man  thus  addressing  a  woman  who 
possessed  his  entire  confidence.  The  lady  to  whom  these 
letters  were  addressed  resided  in  Paris,  and  she  favored 
me,  only  a  few  days  before  these  pages  were  written,  with 
another  glance  at  the  correspondence,  to  which  she  at- 
tached the  highest  value. 

In  another  letter  General  Hoche  says :  w  Do  they  wish 
me  to  come  to  Paris  to  renew  the  scandalous  scene  of 
the  1 8th  of  June  ?*  If  they  do,  I  will  come,  and  in  my 
turn  tear  to  pieces  their  embroidered  coats.  Let  them 
not  provoke  me."  Alas!  the  unfortunate  General  ought 
not  to  have  provoked  an  enemy  who  was  alike  cowardly, 
criminal,  and  feeble.  Scarcely  one  month  elapsed  after 
the  date  of  this  last  letter,  and  Hoche  was  no  more.  An 
almost  unanimous  voice  pronounced  sentence  of  murder 
against  those  who  ought  to  have  placed  the  civic  crown 
on  the  head  of  Hoche  instead  of  consigning  him  to  the 
grave.  As  to  my  own  opinion,  I  entertain  a  firm  con- 
viction that  General  Hoche  died  by  assassination.  His 
tragical  death  forms  a  remarkable  event  in  our  revolution- 
ary history. 

I  must  now  revert  to  a  few  circumstances  of  anterior 
date  for  the  better  explanation  of  some  facts  which  are 
to  follow.  Shortly  before  the  Revolution  my  father,  in 
the  course  of  his  financial  business,  was  engaged  in  rather 
a  curious  affair,  which  at  the  time  was  but  little  known, 
because  one  of  the  two  parties  concerned  belonged  to  the 
Polignac  family.  While  this  affair  was  pending  my 
mother  was  introduced  to  some  of  the  individuals  con- 
cerned, among  others  to  Madame  de  Re c,  a  natural 

daughter  of  the  Marquis  de  St.  A n. 

When,  in  1796,  the  revolutionary  troubles  had  some- 
what subsided,  and  people  who  had  been  dispersed  in 
various  directions  once  more  thronged  to  Paris,  my 
mother,  to  her  great  astonishment,  one  day  met  Madame 

de  Re c  at  Tivoli.  The  lady  was  splendidly  dressed 

in  an  extravagant  style  of  fashion.  She  was  walking  be- 
tween two  gentlemen;  the  one  on  the  right  was  a  collet 

*  He  here  alludes  to  the  indecorous  scene  which  took  place  between 
de  Lahaye  and  another  deputy,  who  actually  fought  until  they  tore 
each  other's  clothes,  in  the  place  where  sittings  of  the  legislative  body 
were  held. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  207 

noir,  and  the  one  on  the  left  an  oreille  de  chien.  She 
was  speaking  with  a  paole  pafumte^  and  giving  herself  all 
the  airs  of  a  perfect  incroyable.  She  seemed  overjoyed  to 
see  my  mother,  who  was  rather  a  formidable  person  to  be 

encountered  by  such  a  woman  as  Madame  de  Re c.  I 

recollect  that  she  was  put  quite  out  of  countenance  by 
the  somewhat  satirical  look  of  my  mother  when  she 
scanned  her  from  head  to  foot  with  the  cool  self- 
possession  of  the  true  Parisian  ttigante. 

When  Madame  de  Re c  behaved  naturally  she  was 

a  lively  and  agreeable  woman.  She  recovered  her  cour- 
age, and  called  upon  us  next  day.  She  told  us  a  great 
deal  about  the  Directorial  court,  with  which  she  was 
well  acquainted,  and  about  Madame  Tallien,  who,  accord- 
ing to  her  account,  was  the  prototype  of  all  that  was 
fair  and  good  in  the  world  —  a  perfect  divinity. 

My  mother  was  a  woman,  and  a  beautiful  woman, 
whose  opinions  were  not  in  unison  with  those  which 
were  professed  in  the  salon  of  Madame  Tallien,  yet  she 
never  withheld  her  admiration  from  other  females  when 
she  felt  that  it  could  be  justly  conferred.  My  mother 
had  been  much  struck  with  the  beauty  of  Madame  Tal- 
lien, and  knew  too  many  facts  relative  to  her  excellent 
conduct  at  Bordeaux  not  to  be  convinced  that  all  the 
praises  conferred  on  her  were  well  deserved. 

The  life  of  Madame  Tallien  was  one  of  the  most  ex- 
traordinary and  diversified  I  ever  knew.  She  might  have 
become  the  French  Aspasia,  and  with  much  greater  ad- 
vantages than  were  enjoyed  by  the  Aspasia  of  Athens, 
with  whom  her  wit,  her  beauty,  and  her  political  influ- 
ence may  serve  to  establish  a  comparison.  She  certainly 
might  have  been  appreciated  much  more  than  Aspasia 
in  spite  of  the  refined  taste  of  the  Athenians,  though 
neither  of  her  husbands  was  a  Pericles. 

The  destiny  of  Madame  Tallien  was  as  singular  as  her- 
self. She  was  born  in  Spain,  where  her  father,  M.  de 
Cabarms,  a  French  banker,  settled,  and  had  acquired  a 
great  reputation.  At  twelve  years  of  age  Theresa  Ca- 
barrus  was  the  loveliest  of  all  the  beauties  of  Cadiz. 
Her  father  sent  her  from  home  at  that  early  age,  be- 
cause he  was  still  too  young  to  take  upon  himself  the 
superintendence  of  so  beautiful  a  daughter.  She  was  seen 
about  this  period  by  her  uncle  Jalabert,  who  could  not 


2o8  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

escape  the  fascination  which  the  lovely  Theresa,  with  a 
look  and  a  smile,  exercised  upon  every  man  who  beheld 
her.  He  wished  to  marry  her,  but  she  gave  the  prefer- 
ence to  M.  de  Fontenay,  to  whom  she  was  united  some 
time  after.  With  a  cultivated  mind,  and  intellectual 
powers  of  a  high  order,  Madame  Tallien  would  have  pos- 
sessed, even  without  her  beauty,  more  than  an  ordinary 
share  of  attractions. 

While  she  was  at  Bordeaux  she  composed  a  discourse 
on  some  abstract  subject,  which  was  intended  to  be  read 
by  way  of  a  sermon,  a  custom  which  was  at  that  time 
prevalent.  She,  however,  had  not  courage  to  read  it  her- 
self, and  she  requested  M.  Jullien  to  read  it  for  her. 

She  was  present  on  the  occasion,  and  the  audience 
were  much  more  attentive  to  her  than  to  the  heavy  and 
monotonous  eloquence  of  the  person  who  delivered  the 
discourse.  She  was  dressed  in  a  riding  habit  of  dark- 
blue  casimere,  with  yellow  buttons,  and  collar  and  cuffs 
of  red  velvet.  Upon  her  beautiful  black  hair,  which  was 
cut  &  la  Titus,  and  clustered  in  graceful  curls  round  her 
face,  she  wore,  a  little  on  one  side,  a  cap  of  scarlet  velvet 
trimmed  with  fur;  in  this  costume  her  beauty  was  really 
dazzling.  At  intervals  the  expression  of  her  countenance 
showed  that  she  was  a  little  out  of  humor  at  the  manner 
in  which  the  discourse  was  read,  and  on  the  following 
Decadi*  she  read  it  herself  in  the  church  of  the  Francis- 
cans. 

Madame  Tallien  was  kind  and  obliging,  but  such  is  the 
effect  on  the  multitude  of  a  name  that  bears  a  stain  that 
her  cause  was  never  separated  from  that  of  her  husband. 
The  following  is  a  proof  of  this.  Junot  was  the  bearer 
of  the  second  flags  which  were  sent  from  the  Army  of 
Italy  to  the  Directory.  He  was  received  with  the  same 
pomp  which  attended  the  reception  of  Marmont,  who  was 
the  bearer  of  the  first  colors. 

Madame  Bonaparte,  who  had  not  yet  set  out  to  join 
Napoleon,  wished  to  witness  the  ceremony,  and  on  the 
day  appointed  for  the  reception  of  Junot  she  repaired  to 
the  Directory,  accompanied  by  Madame  Tallien.  They 
lived  at  that  time  in  great  intimacy ;  the  latter  was  a  re- 
flection of  the  Directorial  royalty,  with  which  Josephine 
when  Madame  Beauharnais,  and,  indeed,  after  she 

*Day  of  Rest. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  209 

became  Madame  Bonaparte,  was  in  some  degree  invested. 
Madame  Bonaparte  was  still  a  fine  woman;  her  teeth,  it 
is  true,  were  already  frightfully  decayed,  but  when  her 
mouth  was  closed,  she  looked,  especially  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, both  young  and  pretty.  As  to  Madame  Tallien, 
she  was  then  in  the  full  bloom  of  her  beauty.  Both 
were  dressed  in  the  antique  style,  which  was  then  the 
prevailing  fashion,  and  with  as  much  of  richness  and 
ornament  as  were  suitable  to  morning  costume. 

When  the  reception  was  ended  and  they  were  about  to 
leave  the  Directory,  it  may  be  presumed  that  Junot  was 
not  a  little  proud  to  offer  to  escort  these  two  charming 
women.  Junot  was  then  a  handsome  young  man  of  five 
and  twenty,  and  he  had  that  military  look  and  style  for 
which,  indeed,  he  was  always  remarkable.  A  splendid 
uniform  of  a  Colonel  of  Hussars  set  off  his  fine  figure  to 
the  utmost  advantage.  When  the  ceremony  was  ended 
he  offered  one  arm  to  Madame  Bonaparte,  who,  as  his 
General's  wife,  was  entitled  to  the  first  honor,  especially 
on  that  solemn  day;  and,  offering  his  other  arm  to 
Madame  Tallien.  he  conducted  them  down  the  staircase 
of  the  Luxembourg.  The  crowd  pressed  forward  to  see 
them  as  they  passed  along. 

(<That  is  the  General's  wife,"  said  one.  "That  is  his 
aid-de-camp,"  said  another.  <(  He  is  very  young."  <(  She 
is  very  pretty.  Vive  le  Ge'ne'ral  Bonaparte!  Vive  la 
Citoyenne  Bonaparte  !  She  is  a  good  friend  to  the  poor.  * 
(<  Ah !  "  exclaimed  a  great  fat  market-woman ;  <(  she  is 
Notre  Dame  des  Victoires  !  w  <(  You  are  right, w  said  an- 
other ;  <(  and  see  who  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  officer ; 
that  is  Notre  Dame  de  Septembre  !  w  This  was  severe,  and 
it  was  also  unjust. 

Junot  escorted  Madame  Bonaparte  when  she  went  to 
join  the  General  in  Chief  in  Italy.  I  am  surprised  that 
M.  de  Bourrienne  has  omitted  mentioning  this  circum- 
stance in  his  <(  Memoirs. w  He  must  have  known  it,  since 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  everything  relating  to 
Josephine,  and  knew  many  facts  of  high  interest  in  her 
life  at  this  period  and  subsequently.  How  happens  it, 
too,  that  he  makes  no  mention  of  Mademoiselle  Louise, 
who  might  be  called  her  companion  instead  of  her  femme 
de  chambre  ?  At  the  outset  of  the  journey  to  Italy  she 
was  such  a  favorite  with  Josephine  that  she  dressed  like 
14 


210  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

her  mistress,  sat  .at  table  with  her,  and  was  in  all  respects 
her  friend  and  confidante. 

The  journey  was  long,  much  too  long  for  Junot,  though 
he  was  very  much  in  love  with  Mademoiselle  Louise. 
But  he  was  anxious  to  join  the  army,  for  to  him  his 
General  was  always  the  dearest  of  mistresses.  Junot  has 
often  spoken  to  me,  and  TO  ME  ALONE,  of  the  vexations 
he  experienced  on  this  journey.  He  might  have  added 
to  his  circumstantial  details  relative  to  Josephine  the 
conversation  he  is  reported  to  have  had  with  Bonaparte 
in  Egypt;*  but  he  never  breathed  a  word  on  the  sub- 
ject, for  his  character  was  always  noble  and  generous. 

The  journey  to  Italy  did  not  produce  the  effect  which 
usually  arises  from  such  incidents  in  common  life  — 
namely,  a  closer  friendship  and  intimacy  between  the 
parties.  On  the  contrary,  Madame  Bonaparte  from  that 
moment  evinced  some  degree  of  ill-humor  toward  Junot, 
and  complained  with  singular  warmth  of  the  want  of 
respect  which  he  had  shown  her,  in  making  love  to  her 
femme  de  chambre  before  her  face. 

At  a  subsequent  period,  however,  Madame  Bonaparte 
thought  no  more  about  Mademoiselle  Louise  or  the  want 
of  respect  shown  by  the  aid-de-camp  and  faithful  friend; 
indeed,  I  believe  she  thought  but  little  about  Bonaparte 
himself.  I  shall,  by  and  by,  notice  the  subject  which  then 
absorbed  all  her  thoughts. 

Madame  de  Re c  often  spoke  to  us  about  Madame 

Bonaparte,  whom  she  frequently  saw  at  the  Directory 
when  she  was  not  exclusively  engrossed  by  the  charms 
of  her  Garden  of  Armida.  On  this  subject  Madame  de 

Re c  furnished  us  with  some  amusing  particulars, 

from  which  Lucien  and  the  whole  family,  but  especially 
Madame  Leclerc,  drew  very  unfavorable  inferences  for  the 
future  happiness  of  their  brother. 

*  See  Bourrienne's  <(  Memoirs. w 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  211 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

Moreau  Takes  the  Command  of  the  Army  of  Italy  —  Championnet — The 
Assassination  of  Rastadt  —  Destruction  of  the  Regiment  of  Scheklers 
—  General  Joubert  —  The  Two  Suchets  —  Anecdote  of  Bonaparte  and 
the  Ordonnateur  Chauvet  —  The  Two  Sleeping  Nymphs  —  Bonaparte 
at  Vingt  et  Un. 

ON  REACHING  Italy,  Junot  served  under  Moreau,  who 
took  the  command  of  40,000  men,  the  sad  wreck  of 
our  military  force  in  Italy,  and  marched  to  meet 
the  enemy.  The  movements  of  the  Austro- Russian  army 
commanded  by  Suwarrow  were,  however,  better  com- 
bined than  his;  the  consequence  was  that  Moreau  was 
defeated  in  the  battle  of  Cassano,  losing  nearly  all  his 
artillery,  and  15,000  men  killed,  wounded,  or  prisoners. 

Championnet  once  more  brought  back  victory  to  our 
standards  by  defeating  General  Mack  and  taking  Naples ; 
but  the  Directory  determined  to  sacrifice  the  glory  of 
one  of  her  sons  on  the  altar  of  his  country,  and  Cham- 
pionnet was  deprived  of  his  command,  arrested,  tried  by 
a  court-martial,  and  was  on  the  point  of  being  shot.  All 
this  was  because  he  resisted  the  designs  of  certain  base 
and  avaricious  proconsuls.  Championnet's  force  was  con- 
signed to  the  command  of  Macdonald,  and  did  not  join 
Moreau's  army  till  after  the  Battle  of  the  Trebia,  where 
we  lost  8,000  of  our  troops. 

About  this  time,  in  the  west  of  France,  the  Chouans 
were  raising  their  odious  standard,  and  the  roads  of  La 
Vendee  were  drenched  anew  with  the  blood  of  French- 
men. Our  plenipotentiaries  were  massacred  at  Rastadt 
by  the  Schekler  hussars,  and,  notwithstanding  the  in- 
dignation expressed  by  all  France  at  that  atrocity, 
vengeance  was  still  very  tardy  in  overtaking  the  assassins. 
The  two  Councils  were  the  first  to  render  a  melancholy 
tribute  of  honor  to  the  victims.  Who  that  saw  that 
ceremony  can  ever  forget  its  solemnity  ?  Who  can 
recollect  without  emotion  the  religious  silence  which 
reigned  throughout  the  hall  and  tribunes  when  the  vote 
was  put  ?  The  President  then  turned  toward  the  curule 
chair  of  the  victim,  on  which  lay  the  official  costume  of 


212  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

the  assassinated  representative,  covered  with  black  crape, 
bent  over  it,  and  pronouncing  the  names  of  Robertjot 
and  Bonnier,  added  in  a  voice  the  tone  of  which  was 
always  thrilling: 

(<  ASSASSINATED  AT  THE  CONGRESS  OF  RASTADT  !" 
Immediately  all  the  representatives  responded: 

(<  MAY  THEIR  BLOOD  BE  UPON  THE  HEADS  OF  THEIR  MURDERERS'.  w 

This  crime  was  long  attributed  to  the  Court  of  Austria, 
but  I  have  positive  evidence  that  the  Queen  of  Naples 
and  the  Colonel  of  the  Schekler  regiment  were  the  sole 
authors  of  the  murder.  I  do  not  now  recollect  at  what 
battle  it  was  that  the  Schekler  hussars  were  in  such  a 
situation  as  obliged  them  to  capitulate.  Their  consciences 
told  them,  however,  that  they  ought  not  to  expect 
quarter.  "Will  you  make  us  prisoners  ?w  demanded  the 
Commander  of  the  corps.  He  received  for  answer  an 
exclamation  of  rage  and  indignation :  <(  Defend  yourselves, 
wretches  !w  The  whole  of  the  regiment  was  exterminated. 

Another  misfortune  which  befell  France  about  this 
period  was  the  death  of  Joubert,  who  was  killed  at  the 
Battle  of  Novi,  at  the  time  when,  touched  by  the  miseries 
of  his  country  he  forgot  her  offenses  and  felt  nothing 
but  her  danger.  Joubert  was  the  friend  of  Championnet. 
On  the  latter  being  arrested,  he  sent  his  resignation  to 
the  Directory,  and  it  was  long  ere  he  would  again  enter  the 
service.  When  he  did,  he  was  first  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  seventeenth  military  division,  the  head- 
quarters of  which  were  then  in  Paris,  and  a  few  weeks 
after  to  the  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy. 

The  striking  similarity  of  situation  between  Joubert 
and  Bonaparte  is  most  remarkable.  Both  were  of  equal 
age,  and  both,  in  their  early  career,  suffered  a  sort  of 
disgrace ;  each  was  finally  appointed  to  command  first  the 
seventeenth  military  division,  and  afterward  the  Army 
of  Italy.  There  is  in  all  this  a  curious  parity  of  events ; 
but  death  soon  ended  the  career  of  one  of  the  young 
heroes.  That  which  ought  to  have  constituted  the  happi- 
ness of  his  life  was  the  cause  of  Joubert's  death ;  namely, 
his  marriage.  But  how  could  he  refrain  from  loving  the 
woman  he  espoused?  Ah!  who  can  have  forgotten 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  213 

Zephirine  de  Montholon,  her  enchanting  grace,  her 
playful  wit,  her  good  humor,  and  her  beauty !  What  deli- 
cacy and  spirit  on  her  features!  I  think  Joubert  was  very 
pardonable. 

The  mention  of  Joubert  brings  to  my  recollection  a 
story  about  Bonaparte  and  the  two  Suchets  (the  Marshal 
and  his  brother),  who  were  the  intimate  friends  of  Jou- 
bert. The  circumstance  I  am  about  to  relate  happened 
a  little  after  the  siege  of  Toulon.  The  town  had  been 
in  the  possession  of  the  French  for  some  weeks,  and  al- 
though his  military  and  official  duties  might  naturally 
have  been  expected  to  fill  up  his  time  completely,  there 
were  still  some  hours  of  the  day  which  hung  heavy  on 
Bonaparte's  hands. 

Chauvet,  the  Commissary-in-Chief,  had  private  affairs 
of  his  own  which  kept  him  free  from  ennui,  but  Bona- 
parte was  entirely  disengaged.  The  Director  of  the 
Maritime  Works  (or  some  such  officer)  had  two  very  hand- 
some daughters,  on  one  of  whom  Chauvet  bestowed  all 
his  attention.  Junot  likewise  had  contrived  to  fill  up  his 
time  in  a  similar  way;  but  Bonaparte,  as  I  have  said, 
was,  in  the  midst  of  his  occupations,  the  prey  of  ennui. 
One  day  he  said  to  Chauvet,  (<  I  must  go  and  dine  with 
Suchet;  tell  him  I  am  coming. w 

But  for  the  better  explanation  of  what  follows  it  is 
necessary  to  premise  that  Suchet,  then  Chef  de  bataillon, 
was  in  quarters  at  La  Seille,  a  pretty  little  village  sit- 
uated on  the  the  very  lowest  point  of  the  Bay  of  Toulon. 
Suchet  occupied  a  small  house,  the  property  of  the  father 
of  the  two  fair  maidens  above  mentioned,  with  one  of 
whom  Chauvet  was  in  love.  The  father  and  daughters 
were  accordingly  invited  to  dine  with  the  party  of  young 
men,  the  eldest  of  whom  had  not  reached  his  twenty-fifth 
year. 

Suchet*  received  his  guest  in  his  usual  way,  his  face 
beaming  with  pleasure  and  good-humor,  and  seeming  to 
say,  "Welcome,  welcome  to  my  house !  *  His  brother 
Gabriel  acted  the  part  of  housekeeper,  and  provided  an 
excellent  dinner.  Gabriel  was  also  an  amiable  and  good- 
tempered  man,  and  did  all  he  could  that  day  to  make 
eight  or  ten  young  madcaps  happy.  But  as  pleasure 
must  have  a  term,  it  was  necessary  to  think  of  retiring 

*  Afterward  the  Marshal  Due  d'Albufera. 


214  .MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

home.  This,  however,  was  found  to  be  impracticable; 
for,  while  the  company  were  enjoying  themselves,  there 
had  been  a  great  fall  of  snow,  succeeded  by  a  hard  frost, 
which  rendered  communication  with  the  village  impos- 
sible; it  was,  besides,  very  foggy. 

However,  with  punch,  conversation,  and  laughter,  they 
amused  themselves  for  a  few  hours  longer ;  but  they  had 
to  wait  for  the  dawn  of  day.  There  was  but  one  bed  in 
all  the  house  —  that  in  which  the  two  brothers  slept. 
What  was  to  be  done  ?  It  was  then  proposed  that  the 
two  ladies  should  occupy  it;  but  as  the  bedchamber  was 
the  only  room  in  the  house  in  which  a  fire  could  be 
lighted,  they  would  not  hear  of  it. 

Bonaparte,  who  then  abhorred  what  he  called  dull 
faces,  proposed  a  game  at  vingt  et  un.  It  was  usually 
the  most  laughable  thing  in  the  world  to  see  him  play 
at  any  game  whatever;  he,  whose  quick  perception  and 
prompt  judgment  immediately  seized  on  and  mastered 
everything  which  came  in  his  way,  was,  curiously 
enough,  never  able  to  understand  the  manoeuvres  of  any 
game,  however  simple.  Thus,  his  only  resource  was  to 
cheat. 

Well,  for  some  time,  vingt  et  un  kept  the  company 
alive.  But  the  cold  soon  overpowered  the  girls;  slumber 
stole  upon  them,  in  spite  of  their  efforts  to  banish  it, 
and  of  the  glances  of  Chauvet.  At  length  they  could 
hold  out  no  longer,  but  threw  themselves  on  the  bed, 
which  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  fell  forthwith 
into  a  sound  sleep.  Cold,  as  well  as  fire,  acts  as  a 
soporific;  and  it  was  not  long  before  all  the  company, 
except  Bonaparte  and  Gabriel  Suchet,  were  snoring. 
Some  stretched  themselves  on  wooden  benches,  which 
stood  around  the  chamber,  and  some  on  chairs,  while 
Bonaparte  and  Gabriel  spent  the  whole  night,  a  winter's 
night  —  that  is  to  say,  seven  hours  at  least  —  in  playing 
at  vingt  et  un.  Bonaparte's  eyelids  never  once  dropped. 
Occasionally  he  would  turn  his  eyes  toward  the  bed  and 
look  at  the  young  girls;  and  when  sometimes  Gabriel 
Suchet  pointed  out  the  elegant  position  in  which  one  of 
them  lay,  he  would  smile,  but  with  an  air  of  apathy, 
rather  singular  in  a  young  man  of  twenty-five.  The  fact 
is,  Bonaparte  had  but  one  real  passion,  and  in  that  all  his 
other  feelings  were  absorbed. 


I  ha 

the  n. 


^   Maaame  Last  it  ia —  Character  of    Madann 

jence  t'i"  Bonaparte's  Returp  from  Kgypt —  Jost 

!;.:n    -  B«.)naparte   K.efust.;   t-<        i-   Her — A    1 


T   HAVE  ai Ir- 
ene     NAPOLEON  AT  CAfRO 

though    her    line    *>.•  "    •--.-„. 
The  first    time    tf&tvgravure  after  Gerome 

wa.  v«'*.     vever* 'unless, 


Indced,  >:••_•  \v,, 
in  certain  <  're: 
was  obviou.--  •';" 
coni-..'i.>s-jd  a  ; 

She  \va.s'  vci 
<if    that    of    be 
knowledge  of    ( 
.Mad   scei:   a   litt 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  215 

I  have  heard  Gabriel  Suchet  say  that,  notwithstanding 
the  many  years  which  have  intervened  since  the  occur- 
rence of  this  incident,  he  often  thinks  he  still  sees 
Bonaparte  sitting  in  the  armchair,  one  of  his  hands  sup- 
porting his  head,  and  the  other  stretched  forward,  as  he 
pronounced  the  continually-repeated  words,  carte-content. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

Description  of  Madame  Lsetitia  —  Character  of  Madame  Bacciochi  — 
Intelligence  of  Bonaparte's  Return  from  Egypt  —  Josephine  Sets  off 
to  Meet  Him  —  Bonaparte  Refuses  to  See  Her  —  A  Reconciliation 
Brought  About  by  Hortense  and  Eugene  —  Sentiments  of  the  Bona- 
parte Family  toward  Josephine. 

I  HAVE  already  observed  that  Madame  Laetitia  Bonaparte 
was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  in  Corsica, 
though  her  fine  face  was  wrinkled  by  many  cares. 
The  first  time  I  saw  her  she  was  dressed  in  an  absurd 
way;  yet,  nevertheless,  she  made  a  strong  impression 
upon  me. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  of  a  lofty  and  elevated  char- 
acter. A  widow  at  an  early  age,  in  a  country  where  the 
head  of  a  family  is  everything,  the  young  mother  found 
it  necessary  to  develop  all  the  energy  of  her  character. 
She  was  gifted  with  that  delicacy  of  perception  which 
distinguishes  the  Corsicans,  but  in  her  this  quality  did 
not  degenerate  into  hypocrisy,  as  in  some  of  her  children. 
Indeed,  she  was  habitually  frank.  She  evinced  firmness 
in  certain  circumstances,  but  in  others  obstinacy.  This 
was  obvious  in  a  number  of  the  systematic  triflings  which 
composed  a  part  of  her  life. 

She  was  very  ignorant,  not  only  of  our  literature,  but 
of  that  of  her  own  country.  She  had,  however,  some 
knowledge  of  the  usual  forms  of  society,  of  which  she 
had  seen  a  little  in  the  course  of  her  acquaintance  with 
M.  de  Marboeuf  and  other  distinguished  men,  who  visited 
much  at  her  house  at  the  time  of  the  occupation  of 
Corsica.  But  this  slight  knowledge  of  the  world  was  to 
her  rather  a  source  of  inconvenience  than  of  advantage, 
inasmuch  as  it  put  her  in  constant  dread  of  committing 


216  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

some  blunder.  Her  haughtiness,  which  was  not  offensive, 
became  dignity  when  elevated  to  her  new  situation.  She 
was  kind  at  heart,  but  of  a  cold  exterior,  possessed  of 
much  good  sense,  but,  as  I  have  said,  of  little  shrewd- 
ness or  knowledge  of  the  world;  and  at  the  period  of 
which  I  speak  she  was  very  scrupulous  in  exacting  from 
everybody  what  she  considered  her  due. 

She  was  a  very  good  mother,  and  her  children,  with 
one  exception,  were  good  to  her  in  their  turn.  They 
treated  her  with  every  respect,  and  showed  her  assidu- 
ous attention.  Lucien  and  Joseph  were  particularly  at- 
tached to  her.  As  for  Napoleon,  he  was  not  so  respectful 
and  attentive  to  his  mother  as  his  brothers  were;  and 
we  shall  presently  see  the  cause  of  his  remissness.  Madame 
Bacciochi  evinced  no  particular  regard  for  her  mother. 
But  for  whom  did  she  ever  show  regard  ?  I  always 
thought  her  the  most  disagreeable  woman  I  had  ever  met 
with;  and  it  is  quite  astonishing  to  me  how  M.  de 
Fontanes,  a  man  of  such  superior  mind,  such  elegant 
manners,  the  very  essence  of  sociability,  should  have 
admired  Madame  Bacciochi  in  the  way  he  did. 

On  the  evening  of  the  pth  of  October  my  mother  had 
a  few  friends  with  her.  Madame  de  Caseaux,  her  daugh- 
ter, Madame  de  Mondenard,  my  mother,  and  several 
gentlemen  of  our  acquaintance  were  seated  at  a  large 
round  table  playing  at  loto-dauphin,  a  game  of  which 
my  mother  was  very  fond.  Suddenly  a  cabriolet  drove 
up  to  the  door,  a  young  gentleman  jumped  out  of  it, 
and  in  a  minute  was  at  the  top  of  the  staircase.  It  was 
my  brother  Albert. 

w  Guess  what  news  I  bring  you ! w  said  he.  As  we 
were  all  in  high  spirits,  and  his  countenance  bespoke 
him  to  be  so  too,  all  sorts  of  absurd  guesses  were  made, 
at  which  Albert  constantly  shook  his  head.  <(  Nonsense !" 
said  my  mother,  taking  up  the  bag  containing  the  little 
balls.  <(  If  there  were  a  change  in  the  government  of 
the  Republic  you  could  not  make  it  an  affair  of  greater 
importance. J>  (<  Well  mother, w  replied  Albert  seriously, 
w  what  you  say  now  in  jest  may  possibly  be  realized. 
BONAPARTE  is  IN  FRANCE !w 

When  my  brother  uttered  these  last  words  the  whole 
party  seemed  struck  motionless,  as  if  by  a  magic  wand. 
My  mother,  who  had  just  drawn  a  ball  out  of  the  bag, 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  217 

held  her  little  hand  raised  in  the  air,  and  the  bag  hav- 
ing fallen  down,  the  balls  were  rolling  about  the  carpet 
in  every  direction  without  exciting  the  notice  of  any- 
body. Everyone  sat  as  if  petrified.  Albert  was  the 
only  person  who  was  conscious  of  the  drollery  of  our 
position,  and  a  burst  of  laughter,  which  he  could  not 
repress,  brought  us  to  ourselves. 

(<  Bonaparte  in  France  !w  exclaimed  my  mother;  (<  it 
cannot  be  possible.  I  saw  his  mother  this  very  day  at 
five  o'clock,  and  she  had  no  idea  of  his  return. }>  <(  It  is, 
nevertheless,  true,"  said  Albert.  <(  I  was  with  Brune- 
tiere  just  now,  when  a  messenger  was  sent  by  Gohier 
to  fetch  him.  He  desired  me  to  wait  till  he  came  back 
from  the  Luxembourg;  and  he  returned  in  about  half 
an  hour.  He  informed  me  that  Bonaparte  arrived  two 
days  ago  at  Fre"jus.  He  added  that  he  found  Madame 
Josephine  Bonaparte  at  Gohier's,  where  she  had  been 
dining,  and  where  she  received  the  first  announcement 
of  this  important  intelligence.  And,"  added  Albert, 
speaking  in  a  half  whisper  to  my  mother,  "  I  understand 
she  was  not  so  well  pleased  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected. w 

No  language  can  convey  any  idea  of  the  state  of  excite- 
ment occasioned  throughout  France  by  Bonaparte's 
arrival.  Bourrienne  was  right  in  saying  that  it  amounted 
to  a  positive  frenzy.  From  the  pth  of  October  all  around 
us  was  in  continual  agitation.  On  the  roth  Josephine  set 
off  to  meet  her  husband,  but  without  knowing  exactly 
what  road  he  would  take.  She  thought  it  likely  he  would 
come  by  way  of  Burgundy,  and  therefore  Louis  and  she 
set  off  for  Lyons. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  a  prey  to  great  and  well- 
founded  uneasiness.  Whether  she  was  guilty  or  only 
imprudent,  she  was  strongly  accused  by  the  Bonaparte 
family,  who  were  desirous  that  Napoleon  should  obtain 
a  divorce.  The  elder  M.  de  Caulaincourt  stated  to  us 
his  apprehensions  on  this  point;  but  whenever  the 
subject  was  introduced  my  mother  changed  the  con- 
versation, because,  knowing  as  she  did  the  sentiments 
of  the  Bonaparte  family,  she  could  not  reply  without 
either  committing  them  or  having  recourse  to  falsehood. 

She  knew,  moreover,  the  truth  of  many  circumstances 
which  M.  de  Caulaincourt  seemed  to  doubt,  and  which 


218  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

her  situation  with  respect  to  Bonaparte  prevented  her 
from  communicating  to  him. 

Madame  Bonaparte  committed  a  great  fault  in  neg- 
lecting at  this  juncture  to  conciliate  her  mother-in-law, 
who  might  have  protected  her  against  those  who  sought 
her  ruin  and  effected  it  nine  years  later;  for  the  divorce 
in  1809  was  brought  about  by  the  joint  efforts  of  all  the 
members  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  aided  by  some  of 
Napoleon's  most  confidential  servants,  whom  Josephine, 
either  as  Madame  Bonaparte  or  as  Empress,  had  done 
nothing  to  make  her  friends. 

Bonaparte,  on  his  arrival  in  Paris,  found  his  house 
deserted;  but  his  mother,  sisters,  and  sisters-in-law,  and, 
in  short,  every  member  of  his  family  except  Louis,  who 
had  attended  Madame  Bonaparte  to  Lyons,  visited  him 
immediately.  The  impression  made  upon  him  by  the 
solitude  of  his  home  and  its  desertion  by  its  mistress 
was  profound  and  terrible,  and  nine  years  afterward, 
when  the  ties  between  him  and  Josephine  were  sev- 
ered forever,  he  showed  that  it  was  not  effaced.  From 
not  finding  her  with  his  family  he  inferred  that  she  felt 
herself  unworthy  of  their  presence,  and  feared  to  meet 
the  man  she  had  wronged.  He  considered  her  journey 
to  Lyons  as  a  mere  pretense. 

M.  de  Bourrienne  says  that  for  some  days  after 
Josephine's  return  Bonaparte  treated  her  with  EXTREME 
COLDNESS.  As  he  was  an  eyewitness,  why  does  he  not 
state  the  whole  truth,  and  say  that  on  her  return  Bona- 
parte REFUSED  TO  SEE  HER,  AND  DID  NOT  SEE  HER  ?  It  WaS 

to  the  earnest  entreaties  of  her  children  that  she  owed 
the  recovery,  not  of  her  husband's  love,  for  that  had 
long  ceased,  but  of  that  tenderness  acquired  by  habit, 
and  that  intimate  intercourse  which  made  her  still  retain 
the  rank  of  consort  to  the  greatest  man  of  his  age. 

Bonaparte  was  at  this  period  much  attached  to  Eugene 
Beauharnais,  who,  to  do  him  justice,  was  a  charming 
youth.  He  knew  less  of  Hortense,  but  her  youth  and 
sweetness  of  temper,  and  the  protection  of  which  as  his 
adopted  daughter  she  besought  him  not  to  deprive  her, 
proved  powerful  advocates,  and  overcame  his  resistance. 
In  this  delicate  negotiation  it  was  good  policy  not  to 
bring  any  other  persons  into  play,  whatever  might  be 
their  influence  with  Bonaparte,  and  Madame  Bonaparte 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTfeS  219 

did  not  therefore  have  recourse  either  to  Barras,  Bour- 
rienne,  or  Berthier.  It  was  expedient  that  they  who  in- 
terceded for  her  should  be  able  to  say  something  without 
the  possibility  of  a  reply. 

Now,  Bonaparte  could  not,  with  any  degree  of  propriety, 
explain  to  such  children  as  Eugene  or  Hortense  the  par- 
ticulars of  their  mother's  conduct.  He  was  there  con- 
strained to  silence,  and  had  no  argument  to  combat  the 
tears  of  two  innocent  creatures  at  his  feet  exclaiming: 
*  Do  not  abandon  our  mother ;  she  will  break  her  heart ! 
And  ought  injustice  to  take  from  us  poor  orphans  the 
support  of  one  whom  Providence  has  sent  to  replace  him 
of  whose  natural  protection  the  scaffold  has  already  de- 
prived us  ? w 

The  scene,  as  Bonaparte  has  since  stated,  was  long 
and  painful,  and  the  two  children  at  length  introduced 
their  mother,  and  placed  her  in  his  arms.  The  unhappy 
woman  had  awaited  his  decision  at  the  door  of  a  small 
back  staircase,  extended  at  almost  full  length  upon  the 
stairs,  suffering  the  acutest  pangs  of  mental  torture. 

Whatever  might  be  his  wife's  errors,  Bonaparte  ap- 
peared entirely  to  forget  them,  and  the  reconciliation  was 
complete.  Of  all  the  members  of  the  family,  Madame 
Leclerc  was  most  vexed  at  the  pardon  which  Napoleon 
had  granted  to  his  wife.  Bonaparte's  mother  was  also 
very  ill-pleased;  but  she  said  nothing.  Madame  Joseph 
Bonaparte,  who  was  always  very  amiable,  took  no  share 
in  these  family  quarrels;  therefore  she  could  easily  de- 
termine what  part  to  take  when  fortune  smiled  on 
Josephine.  As  to  Madame  Bacciochi,  she  gave  free  vent 
to  her  ill-humor  and  disdain;  the  consequence  was  that 
her  sister-in-law  could  never  endure  her.  Christine,  who 
was  a  beautiful  creature,  followed  the  example  of  Madame 
Joseph,  and  Caroline  was  so  young  that  her  opinion  could 
have  no  weight  in  such  an  affair.  As  to  Bonaparte's 
brothers,  they  were  at  open  war  with  Josephine. 


220  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

The  8th  of  November  —  My  Brother-in-law  Visits  Bonaparte  —  My 
Mother  and  I  Visit  Madame  Laetitia  Bonaparte  —  The  Bonaparte 
Family  During  the  8th  —  Their  Danger  —  Moreau  Appointed  Gaoler 
of  the  Directors  —  Moreau's  Character  Drawn  by  Bonaparte  —  M. 
Brunetiere  and  Gohier  —  Moreau's  Harshness  toward  Gohier  — 
Moulins —  Fouche's  Measures  — Singular  Ignorance  of  the  Bonaparte 
Family  with  Regard  to  the  Events  of  the  8th  of  November — Madame 
Leetitia  Relates  Napoleon's  Birth — A  Curious  Conversation  Respect- 

.  ing  Bonaparte  between  M.  Brunetiere  and  Gohier  —  The  Bunch  of 
Keys  and  Moreau's  Sword. 

ON  THE  morning  of  the  8th  of  November  Lucien  quit- 
ted the  house  in  which  he  resided  in  the  Rue 
Verte  and  established  his  headquarters  at  M.  Mer- 
cier's,  the  President  of  the  Council  of  Ancients,  who  then 
occupied  a  house  beside  the  Hotel  de  Breteuil,  near  the 
Manege,  and  who  was  entirely  devoted  to  him.  It  was 
then  half-past  seven  o'clock,  and  as  the  decree  of  removal 
had  not  yet  appeared,  Bonaparte  sent  almost  every  in- 
stant to  know  if  the  affair  was  proceeding.  My  brother- 
in-law  went  to  him  repeatedly  to  exhort  him  to  patience. 

On  the  first  visit  the  General's  servant  mistook  his 
name  though  he  knew  both  him  and  my  brother  well, 
and  announced  him  as  the  citizen  Permon.  The  General 
started  at  the  name,  for,  in  truth,  he  did  not  expect  my 
brother.  M.  de  Geouffre,  however  received  a  welcome, 
and  was  presently  sent  back  again  to  hasten  the  publica- 
tion of  the  decree.  My  brother-in-law  remarked  that 
Bonaparte  had  a  pair  of  pistols  within  his  reach.  Up  to 
that  moment  he  had  been  quite  alone.  Soon  after  my 
brother-in-law's  first  visit  the  Rue  Chantereine  began  to 
be  thronged  so  thickly  with  horses  and  people  that  scarce- 
ly anyone  could  pass  along  it. 

At  length,  at  half-past  eight  or  a  little  later,  the  news 
that  the  decree  was  ready  was  carried  to  Bonaparte  by 
my  brother-in-law,  and  the  General  immediately  mounted 
his  horse  to  proceed  to  the  Tuileries.  On  alighting 
there  my  brother-in-law  met  General  Debelle,  with  whom 
he  was  intimately  acquainted.  Debelle  was  dressed  in 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  221 

plain  clothes,  for  he  had  run  out  on  the  first  intelligence 
of  the  movement. 

<(  How  comes  it,*  said  M.  de  Geouffre,  (<that  you  are 
not  in  uniform  ?  w  w  Why, "  he  replied,  w  I  hardly  knew 
what  was  going  on ;  but  the  thing  is  soon  rectified, w  and 
going  up  to  a  gunner  who  was  standing  by,  <(  Let  me 
have  your  coat,  my  brave  fellow, M  said  he,  at  the  same 
time  taking  off  his  own.  The  gunner  gave  him  his  coat, 
and  in  this  costume  he  attended  General  Bonaparte  to 
the  council  chamber. 

The  Revolution  of  the  8th  was  completed,  and  Paris 
was  no  longer  agitated.  We  went  to  see  Madame  Laetitia 
Bonaparte,  who  lived  with  Joseph.  She  appeared  calm, 
though  far  from  being  easy,  for  her  extreme  paleness 
and  convulsive  movements  whenever  an  unexpected  noise 
met  her  ear  gave  her  features  a  ghastly  air.  In  these 
moments  she  appeared  to  me  truly  like  the  mother  of 
the  Gracchi.  And  her  situation  added  force  to  the  idea; 
she  had  perhaps  more  at  stake  than  the  famous  Roman 
matron.  She  had  three  sons  under  the  stroke  of  fate, 
one  of  whom  would  probably  receive  the  blow  even  if 
the  others  escaped.  This  she  strongly  felt. 

My  mother  and  myself  remained  with  her  a  part  of 
that  anxious  day,  and  only  quitted  her  on  the  restoration 
of  her  confidence  by  Lucien's  different  messages,  who 
frequently  sent  Mariani,  his  valet  de  chambre,  to  calm 
her  disquiet  as  well  as  that  of  his  wife.  Leaving,  then, 
these  ladies  in  comparative  ease,  we  proceeded  to  Ma- 
dame Leclerc,  who  was  but  little  frightened,  because, 
indeed,  she  never  reflected  upon  anything,  but  who 
nevertheless  raised  the  loudest  clamor  of  any. 

Every  quarter  of  an  hour  she  wrote  to  Moreau.  She 
kept  at  that  period  a  femme  de  chambre,  a  sort  of  serva 
padrona,  who  wrote  to  her  dictation,  and  fine  writing  it 
was!  When  I  arrived  with  my  mother,  she  wished  me 
to  take  the  pen  and  write  in  her  name  to  General  Moreau. 
It  was  to  ask  the  news  for  which  she  was  crying  out 
continually,  and  two  hours  later  she  was  informed  that 
Moreau  was  not  at  home,  and  that  he  probably  would 
not  return  that  night.  On  our  departure  she  made  us 
promise  to  revisit  her  early  on  the  morrow.  My  mother 
willingly  agreed  to  do  so,  because  she  loved  Madame 
Leclerc  dearly;  for  my  part,  I  was  at  that  time  tenderly 


222  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

attached  to  Caroline,  the  youngest  of  Bonaparte's  sisters, 
who  was  about  my  own  age. 

We  had  scarcely  left  her  when  we  met  my  brother-in- 
law  coming  to  tell  us  the  news.  He  quitted  us  to  rejoin 
Lucien,  whom  he  wished  not  to  leave  during  those  per- 
ilous hours,  for  even  now  tranquillity  was  but  apparent, 
and  might  be  delusive  to  the  Bonaparte  family.  The 
danger  to  which  that  family  was  exposed  might  have 
been  even  imminent  on  the  night  of  the  8th  to  pth. 

If  the  Directory  had  not  been  strictly  guarded  by  the 
troops  under  Moreau,  who  had  accepted  the  charge  of 
Gaoler-in-Chief  to  the  captive  Directors;  if  Moreau  had 
not  kept  them  under  even  closer  restraint  than  he  was 
ordered  to  do;  if  he  had  not  acted  an  ungracious  part  — 
in  a  word,  if  he  had  behaved  as  he  ought  to  have  done, 
then  the  Directory  and  the  Councils  would  have  been 
the  victors  instead  of  the  vanquished  on  the  pth  of 
November. 

The  event  would,  doubtless,  have  been  unfortunate, 
but  then,  their  cause  was  that  of  the  Constitution;  and 
if  they  had  triumphed,  Bonaparte's  brothers  would  have 
followed  him  to  the  scaffold,  and  their  friends  and  parti- 
sans would  all  have  had  a  prospect  of  Cayenne,  to  say 
the  least. 

I  do  not  recollect  the  exact  period  of  Moreau's  mar- 
riage; but  I  believe  it  took  place  a  little  after  the  epoch 
of  the  8th  of  November.  Bonaparte  wished  him  to 
espouse  his  sister.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  both, 
for  all  three,  that  this  union  did  not  take  place.  Indeed, 
it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  Moreau  would  have  been 
more  trustworthy  as  a  brother-in-law  than  he  was  as  a 
brother-in-arms.  Bonaparte  had  acquired  an  ascendency 
over  him.  The  day  after  he  met  him  with  Gohier  he 
went  and  presented  him  with  a  scimitar  of  surprising 
beauty  and  enriched  with  precious  stones  —  the  gift  of 
Mourad  Bey.  Thus,  at  the  epoch  of  the  8th  of  Novem- 
ber, Moreau  was  entirely  the  slave  of  that  charm  which 
Bonaparte  knew  so  well  how  to  cast  over  those  he  wished 
to  conquer. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  memorable  day.  The  con- 
duct of  Moreau  on  that  occasion  was  a  long  time  a 
mystery  to  me.  I  could  not  at  first  incline  to  my 
brother's  opinion,  who  constantly  maintained  that  it  was 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  223 

Moreau's  extreme  weakness  of  disposition  which  had  thus 
placed  him  at  Bonaparte's  disposal;  but  I  afterward  was 
confirmed  in  that  opinion  by  what  I  heard  from  Bona- 
parte's own  mouth. 

I  was  one  day  at  Malmaison,  in  Josephine's  bedcham- 
ber; Bonaparte  came  in  for  a  moment;  she  handed  him 
a  small  note;  I  believe  it  was  from  Madame  Hulot, 
Moreau's  mother-in-law,  for  he  was  then  married.  Bona- 
parte read  the  note,  and,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  said, 
c<  Always  the  same !  Ever  at  the  mercy  of  those  who 
choose  to  lead  him!  now  he  is  the  slave  of  a  wicked  old 
woman.  It  is  fortunate  that  his  pipe  cannot  speak,  or 
that  would  direct  him  too!8 

Josephine  wished  to  make  some  reply.  <(  Come,  *  said 
he,  (<you  must  not  defend  him.  You  do  not  understand 
this  matter. w  Here  he  embraced  her.  K  If  indeed  it  had 
been  his  lot  to  be  led  by  such  a  gentle  wife  as  you! 
But  his  dragon  of  a  mother-in-law  and  his  shrew  of  a 
wife  are  very  she-devils.  I  will  not  have  any  such 
about  me." 

Why  he  made  use  of  this  last  phrase  I  know  no  more 
than  others:  I  made  no  inquiry,  because  I  naturally 
thought  that  it  referred  to  something  in  the  note.  The 
above,  however,  are  the  words  he  used,  and  they  made 
the  greater  impression  on  me  because  I  myself  was  but 
just  married. 

M.  Brunetiere  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Gohier,  and 
as  soon  as  he  learned  what  had  happened,  he  proceeded 
to  the  Luxembourg,  where  Gohier  lived  on  a  second 
floor  in  the  Rue  du  Theatre  Frangais.  When  he  reached 
the  first  sentinels,  he  fancied  himself  upon  a  field  of 
battle.  His  natural  assurance  —  and  he  had  his  share  — 
rendered  him  deaf  to  the  repeated  exclamations  of  <(  You 
cannot  pass. w  Uneasy  on  account  of  his  friend,  he  wished 
to  see  Moreau ;  he  found  that  impossible ;  he  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  Luxembourg;  his  agitation,  his  eagerness  to 
visit  his  unfortunate  friend,  who  might  need  his  assist- 
ance, gave  rise  to  suspicions. 

Moreau  had  given  directions  that  all  persons  who  pre- 
sented themselves  without  a  written  order  signed  by  him, 
and  who  insisted  on  seeing  any  of  the  Directors,  should 
be  conducted  before  the  commanding  officer;  and  further, 
that  all  who  were  admitted,  either  to  Moulins  or  Gohier, 


224  MEMOIRS    OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

should  be  required,  on  their  departure,  to  swear  that 
they  were  the  bearers  neither  of  a  written  nor  verbal 
message.  Happily,  Brunetiere,  seeing  the  turn  things 
had  taken,  judged  that  he  was  more  likely  to  serve  his 
friend  at  a  distance  than  he  would  be  near  his  person, 
and  made  the  best  of  his  way  from  the  Petit  Luxembourg. 

Gohier's  conduct  on  the  8th  and  gth  was  perfectly  in 
keeping  with  his  character.  He  refused  to  see  Moreau 
when  he  came  to  him  on  the  8th  of  November.  Moulins, 
too,  had  already  treated  Moreau  with  so  marked  a  dis- 
dain that  those  who  were  witnesses  of  his  reception 
actually  felt  for  him.  The  Director-General  stared  at 
him  for  some  seconds  with  the  most  thrilling  contempt, 
surveying  him  from  head  to  foot,  and  pointing  to  an  ante- 
chamber — (<  Remain  there, w  said  he  and  left  him. 

But  the  pth  was  to  develop  the  entire  plan  of  the 
conspiracy  ( for  we  must  make  use  of  that  expression ) 
which  was  only  announced  by  the  events  of  the  8th.  A 
fact  sufficiently  singular  is  the  entire  ignorance  in  which 
all  that  portion  of  the  Bonaparte  family  who  had  no 
share  in  the  action  were  placed.  Everything  had  been 
managed  so  quietly  in  Paris;  Fouche"  had  so  well  taken 
his  measures  to  prevent  the  escape  of  any  intelligence, 
that  Bonaparte's  mother  and  sister  were  obliged  to  obtain 
information  of  what  was  passing  in  the  manner  I  have 
described. 

The  events  of  the  evening  had  proceeded  so  quietly, 
that  the  uneasiness  of  Madame  Lsetitia  Bonaparte  was 
entirely  dissipated.  It  was  thought  the  Councils,  after 
having  sanctioned  the  sending  back  of  three  Directors, 
and  voted  a  dispensation  with  regard  to  his  age,  would 
proceed  to  the  nomination  of  Bonaparte,  and  that  every- 
thing would  thus  be  settled.  Albert  thought  that  M.  de 
Talleyrand  would  be  one  of  the  peace-making  Directors, 
and  of  this  I  was  very  glad,  because  his  niece  was  a 
friend  of  mine. 

My  mother  expressed  her  astonishment  that  Madame 
Lsetitia  had  not  been  to  see  her  daughter-in-law  on  such 
an  emergency.  <(  Signora  Panoria, w  replied  Madame 
Bonaparte,  <(  it  is  not  to  that  quarter  that  I  look  for  com- 
fort! It  is  with  Julie,  with  Christine.  There,  indeed,  I 
find  maternal  happiness!  but  for  the  other  —  no,  no. w  As 
she  finished  the  sentence,  she  compressed  her  lips  and 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  225 

opened  her  eyes  widely.  This  was  a  characteristic 
indication  with  her  when  what  she  had  just  spoken 
strongly  interested  her. 

That  very  day  I  had  occasion  to  remark  the  maternal 
tenderness  of  Madame  Laetitia.  We  had  no  company  to 
dinner,  and  she  conversed  for  hours  with  my  mother 
with  greater  freedom  than  she  had  yet  done  since  her 
arrival  from  Corsica.  They  both  began  to  recall  the 
days  of  youth.  Madame  Bonaparte  was  quite  at  her  ease, 
because  with  us  she  spoke  nothing  but  Italian;  indeed, 
to  say  the  truth,  her  French  was  not  very  intelligible. 

I  recollect  she  this  day  told  us  that,  being  at  mass  on 
the  day  of  the  ftte  of  Notre  Dame  of  August,  she  was 
overtaken  with  the  pains  of  childbirth,  and  she  had  hardly 
reached  home  when  she  was  delivered  of  NAPOLEON  on  a 
wretched  rug.  During  her  pregnancy  she  had  experienced 
many  misfortunes,  for  when  the  French  entered  Corsica 
many  of  the  principal  families,  and  among  them  that  of 
Bonaparte,  were  constrained  to  fly.  They  assembled  at 
the  foot  of  Monte- Rotondo,  the  highest  mountain  in 
Corsica.  In  their  flight,  and  during  their  sojourn  among 
the  mountains,  they  underwent  many  hardships.  <(  I  know 
not  why,*  said  she,  (<it  has  been  reported  that  Paoli  was 
Napoleon's  godfather.  It  is  not  true;  Laurent  Jiube"ga* 
was  his  godfather.  He  held  him  over  the  baptismal  font 
along  with  another  of  our  relations,  Celtruda  Bonaparte.  wf 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  Madame  Leclerc 
was  seated  on  her  favorite  divan,  admiring  herself  in  a 
glass  which  was  opposite  to  her,  and  having  at  length 
arranged  the  folds  of  her  cashmere  shawl,  she  reminded 
her  mother  of  all  the  sufferings  they  had  endured  during 
their  flight  from  Ajaccio. 

Madame  Mere  had  often  talked  over  those  events,  but 
the  recital  never  interested  me  so  powerfully  as  on  the 
8th  of  November,  when  the  space  of  six  years  had  ren- 
dered so  different  the  situation  of  those  very  children 
whom  she,  a  lone,  feeble  woman,  had  been  forced  to 
hurry  away  beyond  the  reach  of  the  proscription,  carry- 
ing the  youngest  in  her  arms,  when  overcome  by  fatigue 

*His  nephew  was  afterward  Prefect  in  Corsica.  He  was  a  relation 
of  Napoleon. 

f  Daughter  of  Charles  Bonaparte,  the  Emperor's  uncle,  and  wife  of 
Paravicini,  a  cousin  also  of  Napoleon. 
15 


226  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

they  could  no  longer  walk,  and  ultimately,  embarking 
with  them  in  a  frail  vessel,  landing  on  a  shore  which 
increased  their  dangers.  In  recording  this  period  of  her 
life,  the  looks  of  Madame  Bonaparte  were  as  handsome 
as  her  language  was  eloquent. 

On  the  evening  of  the  gth  we  went  to  the  Theatre 
Feydeau,  which  at  that  period  was  the  most  pleasant  in 
Paris.  Martin,  Madame  St.  Aubin,  Mademoiselle  Phyllis, 
Juliet,  and  Chenard  performed  there.  I  forget  what  was 
the  first  piece  represented  that  evening,  but  I'Auteur  dans 
son  manage  was  the  afterpiece.  The  curtain  rose,  and  the 
latter  piece  was  proceeding  very  quietly,  when  all  of  a 
sudden  the  actors  stopped,  and  the  Auteur  dans  son 
manage  himself  appeared,  and  advancing  in  front  of  the 
stage,  dressed  in  a  morning  gown  of  white  dimity,  ex- 
claimed in  a  very  loud  voice :  w  Citizens,  General  Bona- 
parte has  been  nearly  assassinated  at  Saint  Cloud  by 
traitors  to  their  country." 

On  hearing  these  words  Madame  Leclerc  uttered  so 
piercing  a  shriek  that  immediately  the  attention  of  all 
the  company  was  attracted  to  our  box,  spite  of  the  agi- 
tation which  the  news  had  universally  excited.  Madame 
Leclerc  still  continued  crying,  and  her  mother,  who 
doubtless  was  as  much  affected  as  she  could  be  at  the  in- 
telligence, endeavored  to  quiet  her,  though  she  herself 
could  scarcely  hold  the  glass  of  water  the  boxkeeper 
had  handed  to  us,  so  great  was  her  agitation. 

On  Madame  Leclerc's  recovery  we  all  proceeded  to  the 
residence  of  Lucien,  conceiving  that  there  we  should  hear 
some  certain  intelligence.  My  brother-in-law  met  us  on 
the  stairs,  and  from  him  we  learned  the  full  particulars 
of  the  event.  We  then  returned  home,  where  we  found 
M.  Brunetiere ;  this  excellent  man  was  quite  downcast.  He 
was  much  attached  to  Gohier,  whose  misfortune  afflicted 
him  deeply. 

A  few  days  after  the  8th  of  November,  speaking  of  the 
events  which  had  preceded  and  followed  that  day,  Gohier 
alluded  to  Bonaparte  with  extreme  bitterness;  he  even 
was  so  ridiculously  blinded  by  passion  as  to  refuse  to  al- 
low him  transcendent  talent. 

<(  Oh,  as  to  that,"  observed  M.  Brunetiere,  who  was 
present,  (<it  is  too  bad."  <(  Not  at  all,"  rejoined  Gohier; 
<(  the  fault  of  one  is  often  the  cause  of  another's  success, 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  227 

and  if,  when  General  Bonaparte  came  to  Paris  after 
Fructidor,  Moulins,  Barras,  and  Ducos  had  been  willing 
to  second  me,  this  fine  fellow  would  have  been  in  their 
and  my  situation.  Is  there  any  improbability  in  such  a 
supposition  ?  "  "  But  still, }>  replied  Brunetiere,  <(  it  seems 
to  me  that  that  would  not  have  been  so  easy  a  matter. 
What  pretext  would  you  have  advanced  ?  *  w  What  pre- 
text ?  We  might  have  advanced  twenty,  the  very  least 
of  which  would  have  brought  him  to  a  court-martial. 
First  of  all,  the  i8th  of  Fructidor,  instigated  by  him, 
executed  by  his  orders. w  <(  But  it  appears  to  me,"  said 
M.  Brunetiere,  <(  that  that  event  was  the  saving  of  the 
Republic. w  <(  Yes ;  a  pretty  saving,  truly !  Consummated 
by  mutilating  every  portion  of  its  administration,  by 
striking  at  the  very  heart  of  the  Directory,  by  strengthen- 
ing our  political  clubs!  He  was  the  chief  conspirator  in 
that  affair.* 

In  speaking  thus  Gohier  either  forgot,  or  pretended  to 
forget,  that  Carnot  had  been  sacrificed  to  an  intrigue  to 
which  General  Bonaparte  was  a  stranger;  at  least  I 
believe  I  have  a  perfect  assurance  of  that  fact ;  and  as  to 
the  Manege  and  the  club  of  the  Rue  du  Bac,  these  are 
at  least  questionable  points.  M.  Brunetiere,  whose  judg- 
ment and  discrimination  were  correct  enough  when  he 
was  not  angry  —  which,  however,  was  the  case  ten  times 
out  of  twelve  when  he  was  engaged  in  a  dispute  — 
observed  to  Gohier  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  cite  any  man  before  a  court-martial  on  such  trifling 
charges,  especially  one  so  loaded  with  laurels  as  was 
Bonaparte  on  his  return  from  Egypt. 

<(  Hear  reason,  my  dear  Gohier, w  continued  he ;  <(  we 
are  both  avocats,  and  can  pretty  well  say  what  can  and 
what  cannot  form  the  basis  of  an  accusation. w  Gohier 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  exclaimed :  (<  But  the  con- 
tributions which  he  levied  in  Italy!  Was  he  not  the 
exactor  ?  w  <(  My  dear  fellow, w  replied  Brunetiere,  w  you 
are  surely  joking?  Have  you  brought  Masse"na,*  or 

*  Massena's  appropriations  only  increased  in  later  years.  From  a 
letter  of  Napoleon  to  Joseph,  i2th  March,  1806,  the  following  lines  are 
taken: 

<(  Massena  and  S have  stolen  6,400,000  francs.  They  shall  repay 

to  the  last  farthing.  Let  Massena  be  advised  to  return  the  6,000,000 
francs.  To  do  so  quickly  is  his  only  salvation.  If  he  does  not  I  shall 


228  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Brune,  or  twenty  others,  who  have  been  far  more  guilty 
in  that  respect  than  Bonaparte ;  have  you  brought  any  of 
these  to  a  court-martial  ?  Nor,  indeed,  has  Bonaparte 
enriched  himself  more  than  they.  The  Cisalpine  Repub- 
lic made  him,  General  Bonaparte,  a  present  of  some 
splendid  diamonds,  which  he  could  accept  without  any 
compunction.  Come!  come!  disbursement  is  not  so  easy 
a  matter."  "Well,"  rejoined  Gohier,  <(  all  I  say  is,  that 
his  resignation  should  have  been  accepted  when  it  was 
offered.  Rewbel  was  the  only  man  who  had  the  heart 
to  say,  as  he  presented  him  with  the  pen,  *  You  desire, 
General,  to  retire  from  service  ?  The  Republic  will 
undoubtedly  lose  in  you  a  brave  and  able  chief;  but  she 
still  has  children  who  will  not  forsake  her.*  The  result 
of  this  bombast  was,  that  Bonaparte  did  not  take  the 
pen,  that  he  withdrew  the  tender  of  his  resignation,  and 
that  he  departed  for  Egypt,  carrying  with  him  the  flower 
of  our  troops,  of  our  savants,  and  all  our  navy. 

"We  should  have  smote  him,"  continued  the  ex- 
President  of  the  Directory,  still  fretful  from  his  mis- 
fortune — <(  we  should  have  smote  him,  and  that  without 
pity;  the  Republic  would  then  still  have  been  in  existence. 
Such  was  my  advice,  but  Sieyes,  who  was  his  accomplice, 
had  influence  enough  in  our  Council,  to  get  Bernadotte's 
resignation  accepted,  although  in  fact  he  had  not  tendered 
it,  in  order  to  have  him  sent  out  of  the  way,  while  he 
uttered  not  one  word  of  accepting  the  resignation  of  a 
factious  wretch  who  braved  the  first  power  in  the  Re- 
public by  insolently  offering  his  own.  (<  I  repeat, "  added 
he  with  energy,  <(  that  if  my  advice  had  been  taken 
everything  would  have  been  easily  settled." 

The  above  conversation,  which  I  have  detailed  with 
the  utmost  exactness,  affords  some  idea  of  the  danger  of 
which  Bonaparte  was  apprised  when  he  insisted  on  his 
departure  for  Egypt.  Not  only  had  the  East  always 

send  a  Military  Commission  of  Inquiry  to  Padua,  for  such  robbery  is 
intolerable.  To  suffer  the  soldiers  to  starve  and  be  unpaid,  and  to 
pretend  that  the  sums  destined  for  their  use  were  a  present  to  himself 

from  the   province   is  too  impudent!      Let  S be   watched.      The 

details  of  their  plunderings  are  incredible.  The  evil  is  intolerable,  and 
I  must  apply  a  remedy.  I  order  Ardent  to  be  arrested.  He  is  an 

agent  of  S .» 

The  conduct  of  Mass6na,  Soult,  or  Lannes,  was  widely  different 
from  the  personal  disinterestedness  of  men  like  Mortier  or  Suchet. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  229 

been  the  favorite  object  of  his  wishes,  but,  at  the  very 
moment  when  glory  had  almost  immortalized  him  in 
his  astonishing  successes  in  Italy,  he  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  remaining  in  Europe,  where  every  echo  told 
his  splendid  achievements.  Besides,  to  a  vivid  desire  of 
raising  the  ancient  war  cry  of  the  Crusaders  there  was 
an  intention  to  avoid  positive  danger.  I  shall  by  and  by 
relate  some  facts  which  preceded  and  followed  his  de- 
parture from  Paris,  by  which  the  truth  of  my  assertions 
may  be  judged  —  facts  with  which  I  became  acquainted 
after  my  marriage  through  the  medium  of  Junot  and 
his  friends. 

Some  time  after  the  conversation  I  have  detailed 
above,  Gohier  met  Moreau  and  M.  Garet.  The  General 
was  embarrassed  at  the  encounter,  and  was  endeavoring 
to  justify  his  conduct.  *  General, }>  said  Gohier,  addressing 
him  with  dignity,  (<  I  am  by  my  profession  enabled  to 
read  people's  consciences;  do  not  force  me  to  say  that  I 
read  in  yours  nothing  which  can  excuse  you.* 

Moreau  began  to  raise  his  voice,  as  if  he  were  hurt 
by  the  severe  expressions  of  Gohier.  *  General, w  he 
again  said,  (<  I  did  not  seek  you,  nor  will  I  question  you. 
I  do  not  wish  to  continue  a  conversation  which  must  be 
as  painful  to  you  as  it  is  disagreeable  to  me.  I  shall 
only  add,M  said  he,  touching  the  pommel  of  Moreau's 
sword,  (<  that  a  bunch  of  keys  would  well  become  this 
place. w 

Moreau  turned  as  pale  as  ashes.  The  blow  was  struck; 
he  stammered  out  some  words  which  Gohier,  as  he  left 
him,  affected  not  to  hear.  It  is  pretended  that  Moreau 
deplored  his  error,  and  thought  to  make  amends  by  ex- 
claiming, (<  I  shall  find  a  way  to  repair  it !  M  If  he  thought 
to  do  so  by  pointing  the  Russian  cannon  against  the 
French  columns,  he  has  at  least  proved  that  he  never 
fairly  knew  what  he  was  about.* 

*  The  only  excuse  that  can  be  pleaded  for  Moreau  in  fighting  against 
his  own  countrymen  is  that  his  father  was  guillotined  by  them  during 
the  excesses  of  the  French  Revolution. 


230  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

Revolution  of  the  8th  November — Bonaparte  Falsely  Accused  of  Fear  — 
Sagacity  of  General  Bonaparte  —  Colonel  Dumoulin  and  General 
Brune  —  Lucien  injDanger,  and  His  Deliverance  —  Hopes  Created  by 
the  Chief  of  the  Consular  Government  —  Lucien  Minister  of  the  Inte- 
rior —  Bonaparte's  Friendship  for  Madame  Lucien  —  Residences  of 
the  Members  of  the  Bonaparte  Family  —  Visit  to  Lucien  at  Le  Plessis 
Chamant  —  The  Poet  d'Offreville  —  Assassination  of  the  Family  of 
Du  Petitval  at  Vitry  —  Scene  at  Malmaison,  and  Conversation  with 
the  First  Consul. 

rr-MiE  Revolution  of  the  8th  of  November  is  undoubtedly 
the  most  important  of  the  nine  which  we  have  ex- 
perienced in  the  course  of  seven  years ;  *  it  not  only 
changed  the  destiny  of  France,  but  exercised  a  powerful 
influence  upon  that  of  Europe  and  the  world.  Neverthe- 
less, none  of  the  events  which  had  preceded  it  had  passed 
with  so  much  apparent  calm.  France  was  so  tired  of  the 
Directory  that  anything  which  should  replace  it  would 
have  been  well  received,  and  was  happy  in  obeying  an 
authority  that  offered  some  guarantee ;  the  past  answered 
for  the  future  which  General  Bonaparte  announced. 

He  only  was  seen  in  this  Consular  Triumvirate;  Sieyes 
and  Roger- Ducos  stood  unobserved  in  the  shade;  and  the 
young  General  served  as  the  only  point  of  view  to  eyes 
fatigued  with  weeping,  which  had  so  long  sought,  without 
being  aware  of  it,  a  lighthouse  that  should  guide  them 
into  port.  Thirty  days  only  had  elapsed  since  Bonaparte 
had  landed  at  Frejus,  and  already  he  had  overthrown 
the  shameful  Government  by  which  France  was  weighed 
down,  and  had  given  it  a  new  one,  of  which  the  wheels 
commenced  their  movement  from  the  first  day.  He  had 

*  First,  the  3ist  of  May,  the  fall  of  the  Girondins.  2.  The  sth  of 
April,  the  fall  of  the  Priestly  party.  3.  The  27th  of  July.  4.  The  2d 
of  April,  the  Defeat  of  Barrere,  Collot  d'Herbois,  and  Billaud-Varennes. 
5.  The  2oth  of  May,  Execution  of  Romme,  Soubrani,  etc. ,  and  Defeat  of 
the  Jacobins.  6.  The  sth  of  October,  the  Directorial  Government.  7. 
The  5th  of  September,  the  Second  Emigration.  8.  The  igih  of  June, 
Fight  of  the  Directors  among  themselves ;  Sieyes  and  Barras  conquer 
Merlin  of  Douai,  Treilhard,  etc.  9.  The  days  of  November,  and  the 
Establishment  of  the  Consular  Government. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  231 

calmed  all  inquietudes,  dissipated  all  alarms,  and  revived 
all  hopes. 

There  is  one  report  spread  by  malevolence,  which  the 
friends  of  Bonaparte  have  disdained  to  combat,  and  which 
has  been  finally  adopted  by  credulity  and  folly  —  it  is 
the  alarm  with  which  Bonaparte  is  alleged  to  have  been 
seized  on  entering  the  hall  of  the  Five  Hundred  at  Saint 
Cloud  on  the  pth  of  November.  This  absurd  story  would 
fall  to  the  ground  of  itself  if  it  were  not  found  in  some 
works  which  appear  to  offer  a  guarantee  for  the  faith 
they  demand. 

In  one  of  these  works  the  author  goes  so  far  as  to 
assert  that  it  was  he  who  recalled  General  Bonaparte  to 
himself,  by  observing  to  him  that  he  was  speaking  with- 
out knowing  what  he  said.  I  take  the  liberty  of  remark- 
ing to  him  in  my  turn  that  he  never  dared  suffer  such 
words  to  reach  the  ears  of  General  Bonaparte.  I  say 
this,  because  to  permit  such  a  statement  to  remain 
uncontradicted  is  to  give  a  totally  erroneous  impression 
of  the  character  of  Bonaparte. 

First,  then,  it  is  untrue  that  he  spoke  on  the  pth  of 
November  to  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  in  the  form 
of  a  discourse.  It  was  on  the  preceding  evening,  to 
the  Ancients,  that  he  used  these  remarkable  words :  "  Let 
us  not  seek  in  the  past  examples  that  may  retard  our 
progress.  Nothing  in  history  resembles  the  close  of  the 
eighteenth  century;  nothing  in  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century  resembles  the  present  moment!  We  demand  a 
Republic  founded  upon  true  liberty.  We  will  have  it — 
I  swear  it!  w 

This  discourse,  much  longer  than  the  few  words  I  have 
quoted,  bears  no  resemblance  to  a  crowd  of  incoherent 
phrases,  as  HE  WHO  RECALLED  GENERAL  BONAPARTE  TO 
HIMSELF  would  represent.  This  oration,  pronounced  in 
the  Council  of  Ancients  on  the  i8th  Brumaire,  preceded 
the  review  which  took  place  in  the  Tuileries,  and  the 
remarkable  allocution  which  General  Bonaparte  addressed 
to  Bottot,  the  envoy  of  the  Directory.  (<  What  have  you 
done  with  this  France  which  I  left  you  so  glorious  ?  I 
left  you  peace — I  return  and  find  war.  I  left  you  vic- 
tories—  I  find  reverses.  I  left  you  the  millions  of  Italy 
—  I  find  despoiling  laws  and  misery  throughout !  w  Truly 
there  was  vigor  enough  in  these  words  to  remove  all  idea 


232  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

of  pusillanimity.  Nevertheless,  on  the  8th  of  November 
he  was  in  the  midst  of  Paris.  The  Revolution  was  far 
from  being  consummated,  and  he  was  in  real  danger. 

With  respect  to  the  emotion  observed  in  General  Bona- 
parte in  the  Hall  of  the  Five  Hundred  at  Saint  Cloud, 
the  following  is  its  true  explanation.  On  the  General's 
entering  the  orangery  violent  outcries  were  raised  against 
him :  (<  Down  with  the  Cromwell !  M  (<  No  Dictator ! }> 
«  Outlaw  him!» 

General  Bonaparte  knew  very  well  that  the  Council  of 
Five  Hundred  was  composed  of  ultra-republicans,  and  of 
enthusiastic  partisans  of  the  constitution  of  the  year  iii. ; 
but  he  had  relied  too  much  upon  the  success  of  Lucien's 
exertions,  who  had  labored  all  night  to  strengthen  his 
brother's  party. 

Surprise  at  this  reception  deprived  him  for  a  time  of  the 
power  to  reply.  His  resolution  was  speedily  taken.  It 
was  necessary  to  decide  the  question  instantly,  which 
could  not  have  been  done  had  the  Five  Hundred  entered 
upon  discussion.  He  might  even  have  been  assassinated; 
and  if  he  had  run  the  risk,  it  would  not  have  been  a 
display  of  valor,  but  of  folly. 

With  an  eagle's  glance  he  saw  through  the  circumstances 
which  surrounded  him.  This  self-consultation  lasted  per- 
haps some  minutes,  and  the  untalented,  judging  by  them- 
selves, attributed  this  silence  and  inaction  to  fear.  But 
he  was  not  surrounded  by  those  only  who  were  thus  in- 
capable of  appreciating  his  sentiments.  I  have  also 
collected  the  opinions  of  eyewitnesses,  who,  capable  of 
judging  calmly,  and  possessing,  perhaps,  as  much  merit 
as  he  whom  they  looked  on,  have  read  his  great  mind 
without  doing  it  injustice. 

It  is  difficult  to  believe  all  the  things  reported  to  be 
said  and  done  in  the  very  short  space  of  time  which 
General  Bonaparte  passed  in  the  Hall  of  the  Council  of 
the  Five  Hundred ;  it  was  but  an  apparition.  And,  with  the 
same  frankness  with  which  I  have  defended  him  from 
the  imputation  of  cowardice,  I  will  add  that  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  a  poniard  was  raised  against  him ;  it  was  Lucien 
who,  after  his  brother's  departure,  was  in  real  danger. 

I  know  that  much  has  been  said  of  this  attempted 
assassination ;  perhaps  General  Bonaparte  believed  it  him- 
self;  at  least  it  is  true  that  when  he  was  in  the  court  of 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTfeS  233 

the  Palace  he  told  it  to  the  soldiers,  but,  I  repeat,  I  do 
not  believe  it.  It  is  not,  however,  any  doubt  of  the 
hatred  of  Pe'ne'  Arena  against  Bonaparte  which  makes 
me  question  the  fact,  but  simply  the  manner  in  which 
the  events  are  said  to  have  taken  place.  One  peculiarity 
is  sufficiently  remarkable,  that  this  same  day  Bonaparte, 
in  addressing  the  troops,  never  stood  still,  and  that  he 
moved  only  in  a  zigzag  direction.  Why  ?  Was  he  afraid  of  a 
pistol  shot  from  the  windows  ?  This  conjecture  may  be 
correct. 

My  brother-in-law  was  on  the  Palace  steps  when  Bona- 
parte came  down.  His  friendship  for  Lucien  made  him 
extremely  anxious  for  the  fate  of  the  young  Tribune. 
He  saw  his  brother  making  his  harangue  and  his  tortu- 
ous promenade,  without  taking  any  step  to  provide 
assistance  for  the  President  of  the  Council,  who,  mean- 
while, might  be  murdered  in  his  curule  chair.  He  ap- 
proached Bonaparte  and  mentioned  Lucien;  the  General 
immediately  turned  toward  an  officer  who  was  a  few 
paces  distant  from  him.  (<  Colonel  Dumoulin,"  said  he, 
w  take  a  battalion  of  grenadiers  and  hasten  to  my  broth- 
er's deliverance. w 

The  choice  which  General  Bonaparte  made  of  this  of- 
ficer shows  the  tact  with  which  he  could  seize  the  small- 
est circumstances  that  could  be  turned  to  his  advantage. 
Colonel  Dumoulin  was  the  first  aid-de-camp  of  General 
Brune,  Commander-in-Chief  of  a  triumphant  army  in  Hol- 
land. Already  Moreau  had  given  his  public  pledge  in 
acting  as  guard  to  the  Directors.  The  first  aid-de- 
camp of  Brune,  commanding  the  battalion  which  dis- 
persed the  opposing  Council  would  cause  the  impression 
that  Brune  himself  was  in  concert  with  Bonaparte. 

This  assurance  was  with  many  people  a  more  than 
sufficient  counterpoise  to  the  fear  which  the  retirement 
of  Jourdan  and  Bernadotte,  both  known  as  warm  Repub- 
licans, had  inspired.  I  am  sure  that  Bonaparte  had  at 
first  no  fixed  idea  upon  this  subject;  but,  with  that  lively 
and  rapid  conception  which  embraced  all  things  with  a 
single  glance,  he  no  sooner  perceived  Colonel  Dumoulin 
than  his  name  started  from  his  lips. 

At  length  we  possessed  a  Government  which  promised 
some  sort  of  security  for  the  future.  My  mother,  whose 
heart  always  saw  the  fair  side  of  everything  that  was 


234  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

done  by  a  Bonaparte,  at  first  considered  this  action  of 
Napoleon  only  as  that  of  a  young  enthusiast  desirous  of 
liberating  his  country  from  the  evils  by  which  it  was 
desolated. 

Never  thinking  seriously  upon  politics,  she  knew  the 
Revolution  only  by  its  horrors  and  its  noise.  That  of 
the  8th  of  November,  therefore,  which  was  accomplished 
without  firing  a  gun,  she  could  not  understand  to  be  a 
revolution;  though,  perhaps,  there  never  had  been  one 
more  important  for  us  and  for  Europe.  It  was  the  ninth 
change  in  seven  years,  not  of  the  Government,  but  of 
the  pilot  at  the  helm.  Lucien  was  almost  immediately 
called  to  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior.  He  had  desired 
another  office:  but  at  this  period  he  encountered  in 
Fouche  an  enemy  who  was  determined  upon  his  destruc- 
tion, and  who  never  ceased  his  intrigues  till  his  object 
was  consummated. 

The  confidence  which  Napoleon,  without  any  attach- 
ment to  him,  placed  in  this  man,  was  always  an  enigma 
to  me.  He  had  sense  and  talent,  no  doubt;  but  did 
this  advantage  neutralize  the  danger  with  which  he  sur- 
rounded Napoleon  ?  No.  And  again,  the  same  NO  is 
applicable  to  another  genius  far  superior  to  Fouche", 
who,  sharing  with  him  the  confidence  of  Bonaparte, 
equally  contributed  to  his  destruction.* 

Madame  Lucien  was  not  pleased  with  her  husband's 
change  of  fortune;  all  this  grand  display  alarmed  her. 
She  was  obliged  now  to  give  up  her  time  to  duties  which, 
with  reason,  she  thought  far  less  important  than  those 
she  had  hitherto  fulfilled  with  so  much  pleasure.  She 
frequently  came  in  a  morning  to  enumerate  her  troubles 
to  my  mother,  and  to  take  her  advice  upon  the  new  and 
difficult  position  in  which  she  was  placed.  But  a  circum- 
stance which  she  was  far  from  foreseeing  gave  her  com- 
fort and  happiness ;  it  was  the  change  in  her  favor  which 
took  place  in  the  sentiments  of  her  brother-in-law.  The 
penetration  of  the  First  Consul  discerned  the  excellent 
qualities  of  Madame  Lucien's  heart ;  and  he  soon  attached 
himself  to  her  with  a  truly  fraternal  regard. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  a  visit  which,  a  short  time 
before  these  great  events,  we  made  to  Lucien's  villa  of 
Plessis  Chamant.  All  Napoleon's  family  at  that  time 

*  Talleyrand. 


DUCHESS    OF   ABRANTES  235 

possessed  fine  country  houses,  which  they  filled  with 
guests.  Joseph  had  Morfontaine;  Lucien,  Le  Plessis 
Chamant;  Madame  Leclerc,  Montgobert.  At  Morfon- 
taine, excursions  upon  the  lakes,  public  readings,  billiards, 
literature,  ghost  stories  more  or  less  mysterious,  a  per- 
fect ease  and  liberty,  gave  charms  to  the  passing  hour. 

To  this  must  be  added  that  which  filled  the  measure 
of  enjoyment,  the  most  friendly,  invariably  friendly  re- 
ception, which  was  accorded  by  the  master  and  mistress 
of  the  mansion.  They  did  not  admit  everyone,  but  any 
person  once  established  as  a  member  of  their  society  was 
sure  of  experiencing  the  most  courteous  hospitality  from 
Joseph  Bonaparte  and  his  lady. 

Madame  Lucien  was  very  amiable,  but  her  husband's 
temper  was  not  always  the  same.  That  did  not  lessen 
the  amusement  to  be  found  at  Le  Plessis;  perhaps  it  in 
some  measure  contributed  to  it.  I  do  not  remember  in 
my  whole  life,  even  in  its  most  joyous  seasons,  to  have 
laughed  so  heartily  as  during  the  five  or  six  weeks 
I  spent  among  a  numerous  party  of  guests  at  that  villa. 

M.  d'Offreville,  from  fifty-five  to  sixty  years  of  age, 
a  man  of  GREAT  TALENTS,  and  of  some  PRETENSION  to  ex- 
treme foppery,  was  the  butt  of  our  mirth  and  the  grand 
subject  of  our  entertainment.  He  was  a  poet,  and  highly 
satisfied  with  his  compositions;  which,  together  with  the 
dignity  he  derived  from  having  held,  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, the  office  of  cloak-bearer  to  Monsieur,  was  the  con- 
tinual theme  of  his  conversation.  (<  It  is  true,M  he  would 
sometimes  remark,  <(  I  have  been  peculiarly  fortunate  in 
my  poems:  Voltaire,  Racine,  even  Corneille,  HAVE  some 
feeble  passages;  my  poetry  has  none.*  Still,  notwith- 
standing this  absurdity,  and  a  figure,  countenance,  and 
costume  by  no  means  calculated  to  inspire  the  respect 
due  to  his  years,  he  might  have  passed  well  enough  in 
a  crowd,  if  he  had  had  more  sense  than  to  expose  him- 
self and  his  follies  to  the  observation  and  ridicule 
of  a  young,  gay,  and  satirical  society. 

Le  Plessis  Chamant  is  in  a  dull  situation;  the  envi- 
rons present  nothing  picturesque,  and  no  shade  is  to  be 
had  nearer  than  the  forest  of  Senlis,  at  some  distance 
even  from  the  gates  of  the  park.  What  induced  Lucien 
to  fix  upon  this  property,  when  villas  of  the  most  in- 
viting description  were  to  be  purchased  in  abundance, 


236  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

within  a  dozen  leagues  on  all  sides  of  Paris,  I  never 
could  comprehend. 

The  subject  of  villas  and  country  seats  reminds  me  of 
a  terrible  catastrophe,  in  the  sequel  of  which  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  remarking  the  First  Consul's  demeanor  in 
an  affair  of  interest.  In  the  night  between  the  zoth  and 
aist  of  April,  of  the  year  iv.,  the  Chateau  de  Vitry,  at  that 
time  the  property  of  M.  du  Petitval,  was  entered  by  a 
troop  of  assassins,  who  murdered  M.du  Petitval,  his  mother- 
in-law,  his  sister-in-law,  and  three  servants;  the  nurse  es- 
caped with  an  infant  son  in  her  arms,  passing  through  the 
hall  filled  with  men  in  the  dress  of  the  police,  and  hav- 
ing drawn  swords  in  their  hands. 

Nothing  was  stolen;  plate,  diamonds,  watches,  and 
other  valuables,  all  remained  in  their  places;  the  papers 
only  were  missing.  The  relations  of  the  victims  imme- 
diately made  an  effort  to  obtain  justice  on  the  perpe- 
trators of  this  inhuman  crime;  the  preliminary  steps 
were  taken  by  the  local  authorities,  the  proces-verbeaux 
were  drawn  up;  but  suddenly  these  symptoms  of  activ- 
ity relaxed,  and  before  long  the  whole  transaction  re- 
mained involved  in  impenetrable  mystery. 

Three  years  after  this  horrible  event,  M.  Dubois  was 
appointed  Prefect  of  the  Police  of  Paris.  Vitry  was 
within  his  district,  and  he  immediately  showed  an  active 
interest  in  the  affair.  He  demanded  from  the  local  mag- 
istrate all  the  documents  in  his  possession.  The  judge 
who  had  taken  the  depositions  was  dead;  search  was 
made  among  the  rolls  of  his  office,  but  in  vain ;  no  trace 
of  the  examinations  could  be  found.  It  was  concluded 
that  all  the  documents  must  have  been  removed  to  the 
archives  of  the  criminal  tribunal;  but  the  most  minute 
investigation  ended  only  in  the  conviction  that  not  the 
smallest  particle  of  evidence  relating  to  this  atrocious 
murder  had  been  preserved.  Some  significant  reflections 
arose  out  of  the  absence  of  these  documents,  which  cer- 
tainly had  at  one  time  existed! 

The  relations  of  the  deceased  continued  to  demand  jus- 
tice. I  was  one  day  in  the  apartment  of  Madame  Bona- 
parte when  the  First  Consul  was  present;  she  was 
persuading  him  to  admit  a  person  who  was  in  waiting 
and  to  whom  she  had  promised  the  favor  of  an  intro- 
duction. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  237 

"  I  have  already  said, tt  replied  the  First  Consul,  <(  that 
I  would  not  give  audience  upon  this  affair;  accusations 
without  proof,  however  strong  the  presumption  may  be, 
have  no  other  effect  than  to  increase  scandal.  However,* 
he  added,  after  walking  to  and  fro  some  time  without 
speaking,  (<  let  your  prottgt  come  in ;  I  will  retire,  and 
re-enter  as  if  by  accident. w  I  made  a  movement  to  with- 
draw, but  was  desired  to  remain;  and  M.  de  Bois-Pre"au 
was  admitted,  coming,  as  I  learned  from  Madame  Bonaparte, 
to  solicit  the  First  Consul's  interference  to  obtain  justice 
against  the  murderers  of  his  relation,  Du  Petitval. 

Madame  Bonaparte  approached  him  with  an  expression 
of  lively  interest;  the  First  Consul  almost  immediately 
returned,  and  she  introduced  the  stranger,  who  presented 
him  with  an  address  of  several  pages  in  close  writing. 
The  First  Consul  took  it,  glanced  rapidly  through  it,  but 
evidently  gave  it  much  attention.  After  some  time  he 
thus  addressed  M.  de  Bois-Pre"au: 

<(  This,  Monsieur,  is  a  delicate  affair ;  the  horror  of  it  in- 
creases its  difficulty.  Your  accusations  are  founded  only 
upon  moral  proofs ;  these  are  not  sufficient  before  a  legal 
tribunal;  before  the  tribunal  of  opinion  the  case  would 
be  different.  The  wealth  of  those  you  accuse  will  not 
clear  them  before  either,  but  it  may  be  supposed  that 
their  position  in  society  has  afforded  them  the  means  of 
security. a 

The  First  Consul,  as  he  spoke,  continued,  according  to 
custom,  to  walk  about  the  room  with  his  hands  behind 
his  back.  What  M.  de  Bois-Pre'au  said  to  him  I  did  not 
hear,  but  he  replied,  <(  I  know  it,  I  know  it;  but  the 
proofs  —  the  proofs  are  indispensable." 

"Proof  is  no  doubt  necessary, w  said  the  petitioner; 
(<  nevertheless,  General,  I  think,  and  all  the  friends  and 
relations  of  the  unfortunate  victims  think  also,  that  if 
you,  as  the  Chief  of  the  State,  would  take  vengeance  into 
your  own  hands,  it  would  be  secure. w 

The  First  Consul  smiled.  <(  You  give  me  credit,"  said 
he,  *  for  more  power  than  I  possess,  and  for  even  more 
than  I  choose  to  possess;  a  power  which,  if  it  were  ac- 
corded me,  I  should  certainly  not  make  use  of.  Justice 
is  open  to  you,  why  do  you  not  invoke  it  ?  For  myself, 
I  regret  that  it  is  not  within  my  province  to  assist  you. w 

He  then  saluted  M.  de  Bois-Preau,  who,  understanding 


238  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

that  his  visit  must  not  be  prolonged,  retired  with  an  air 
of  melancholy  which  the  First  Consul  probably  remarked ; 
for  he  said  to  him,  when  he  had  already  reached  the 
door,  <(  I  am  truly  sorry,  I  repeat  to  you,  that  I  cannot 

oblige  you  in  this  case,  particularly *  but  here  he 

stopped  short,  and  taking  from  the  mantelpiece  the 
memoir  M.  de  Bois-Pre*au  had  presented  to  him,  held  it 
out  to  its  owner. 

w  I  entreat  you  to  keep  it,  General, *  said  the  latter. 

The  First  Consul  slightly  knit  his  brows,  and,  still  ex- 
tending his  hand,  made  a  movement  indicative  of  impa- 
tience. *  It  is  not  a  petition  which  I  have  had  the  honor 
to  commit  to  you,*  continued  M.  de  Bois-Preau;  <(it  is 
but  a  narrative  of  this  melancholy  event,  and  only  some- 
thing more  circumstantial  than  that  given  by  the  jour- 
nals of  the  time.* 

The  First  Consul  hesitated  an  instant;  then  replaced 
the  manuscript  on  the  mantelpiece,  saying,  with  a  gra- 
cious smile  of  dismissal,  (<  I  accept  it,  then,  as  a  narra- 
tive.* 

When  the  petitioner  had  departed  the  First  Consul 
took  up  the  document  and  read  it  again  with  great  at- 
tention. He  walked  up  and  down  as  he  read,  and  words 
escaped  him  at  intervals  which  showed  the  profound  in- 
dignation it  inspired.  <(  It  is  infamous !  *  he  at  length 
exclaimed.  (<  Our  children  will  believe  that  Frenchmen 
have  been  slaughtered  by  Frenchmen  within  a  league  of 
Paris,  and  that  the  crime  has  not  been  instantly  avenged 
by  the  laws.* 

Then,  after  again  perusing  the  memoir,  still  walking 
rapidly,  he  added,  (<  It  is  incredible ;  a  police  inert,  if 
not  guilty.  Dubois  would  not  have  acted  thus.  Let  cit- 
izen Cambace'res  be  informed  that  I  wish  to  speak  to 
him,*  continued  he,  turning  to  Duroc,  and  left  the  room, 
shutting  the  door  with  great  violence. 

When  he  was  gone  Madame  Bonaparte  told  us  that  the 
First  Consul  had  long  formed  an  opinion  upon  this  sub- 
ject; murders  were  at  that  time  frequent,  but  the  cir- 
cumstances of  this  were  peculiarly  striking. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  239 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

The  Winter  of  1800  —  The  Restoration  of  Order  and  General  Security 
—  Massena  and  the  Siege  of  Genoa  —  Passage  of  Mont  Saint  Ber- 
nard —  Marmont's  Artillery  —  Moreau's  Triumphs  on  the  Rhine  — 
The  Campaign  of  Marengo —  Inconceivable  Effect  Produced  at  Paris 
by  the  News  of  the  Victory  —  Bonfires  —  Universal  Joy  —  News 
from  the  Army  —  Particulars  of  the  Battle  of  Marengo  —  The 
Death  of  Desaix  —  Kellerman's  Admirable  Charge  —  Folly  of  Gen- 
eral Melas  —  Habits  of  Napoleon  in  Conversing  with  Strangers  — 
De  Bubna  —  Services  of  the  Kellermans,  Father  and  Son  —  Land- 
ing of  Junot  at  Marseilles  —  Grief  of  the  Aids-de-Camp  of  De- 
saix. 

THE  winter  of  1800  was  very  brilliant  in  comparison  to 
those  which  had  preceded  it.  Confidence  was  re- 
stored; everyone  felt  the  same  sentiments  toward 
General  Bonaparte,  and  at  this  epoch  they  were  those  of 
attachment.  What  opportunities  has  he  lost!  How  much 
he  was  beloved  at  that  period!  Yes,  beloved;  and  where 
affection  did  not  exist,  admiration  and  confidence  did. 
The  emigrants  returned  in  great  numbers,  and  had  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  reception  they  met  with; 
if  they  had  vexations  to  endure  from  Fouche",  on  applica- 
tion to  the  First  Consul  they  were  sure  to  obtain  justice. 

The  First  Consul  knew  too  well  that  the  brilliant  suc- 
cess of  Masse*na  at  Zurich,  though  it  had  retarded,  had 
by  no  means  overcome  the  danger  with  which  we  were 
threatened.  Austria,  irritated  by  so  many  reverses  when 
she  had  reckoned  upon  victories,  had  determined  upon  a 
final  effort  for  our  destruction,  and  France  was  again 
threatened. 

General  Massena,  after  having  resisted  a  combined 
Russian  and  Austrian  force  of  threefold  his  numbers, 
had  retired  upon  Genoa,  where  he  was  soon  shut  up  with 
15,000  men  and  a  population  of  100,000  souls;  he  gal- 
lantly sustained  a  siege  of  fifty-two  days,  which  should 
conduce  more  to  his  renown  than  all  his  victories. 

The  brave  Suchet,  separated  from  his  General  in  Chief, 
effected  a  retreat  upon  Nice,  and,  in  concert  with  Soult 
and  Compans,  exhibited  prodigies  of  valor  and  talent. 
But  almost  all  the  passages  of  Italy  were  open,  and  the 
Austrians,  with  General  Melas  at  their  head,  prepared  to 


240  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

make  us  lament  the  glory  of  Zurich;  General  Otto  con- 
tinued the  blockade  of  Genoa,  rejoiced  to  detain  in  cap- 
tivity the  conqueror  of  the  Austro-  Russian  army. 

Napoleon  then  took  one  of  those  resolutions  to  which 
genius  only  is  competent.  The  passage  of  Saint  Bernard 
was  accomplished.  Suwaroff  had  the  preceding  year  de- 
clined this  enterprise.  Napoleon  saw  its  almost  impossi- 
bility; but  saw  it  only  to  conquer.  His  powerful  hand 
no  sooner  pointed  to  its  glassy  summits  than  the  obsta- 
cles disappeared.  Everything  became  possible  to  the  ex- 
ertions of  those  men  whose  talents  his  penetration  had 
discovered. 

General  Marmont,  commander  of  the  artillery,  found 
means  to  transport  the  cannon  across  the  most  frightful 
precipices;  he  caused  the  trunks  of  large  trees  to  be 
hollowed  into  the  form  of  troughs,  and  placing  the  can- 
nons and  howitzers  in  them,  was  thus  enabled  to  have 
them  drawn  to  the  most  elevated  summit  of  the  pass. 
The  journals  have  commented  largely  on  this  famous 
passage  of  Saint  Bernard ;  poetry  has  celebrated,  and  the 
arts  have  delineated  it;  but  nothing  can,  at  this  distance 
of  time,  convey  an  idea  of  the  enthusiasm  it  communi- 
cated to  the  parties  interested  in  the  operation:  the 
letters  written  from  Milan,  Suza,  Verceil,  and  La  Bru- 
nette, by  those  who,  having  traversed  the  Alps,  were 
reconquering  Italy,  painted  in  glowing  colors  the  bril- 
liance of  this  undertaking. 

While  the  French  penetrated  into  Italy  by  three  passes, 
which  the  folly  of  General  Melas  had  left  unguarded, 
General  Moreau,  who  THEN  loved  his  country,  was  acquir- 
ing celebrity  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  The  passage 
of  this  river,  the  taking  of  Fribourg  and  Memmingen, 
the  battles  of  Eugen,  Biberach,  and  Moeskirch,  and  a 
multitude  of  lesser  engagements,  in  which  the  Austrians 
lost  more  than  25,000  in  killed  and  wounded,  without 
calculating  prisoners  —  all  these  were  the  results  of  a 
campaign  of  thirty-three  days !  Ah !  if  Moreau  had  always 
acted  thus,  how  proud  would  his  country  have  been  of 
his  name.* 

*The  Campaign  of  the  Rhine,  which  began  the  26th  of  April,  1800, 
is  one  of  the  most  glorious  military  movements  of  Moreau.  Between 
that  day  and  the  2gth  of  May  the  Austrians  were  not  only  driven 
across  the  Rhine,  but  were  obliged  to  retire  beyond  Augsbourg. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  241 

During  the  campaign  of  Marengo  Paris  became  almost 
a  solitude;  from  Paris  to  Turin  the  road  was  covered 
with  travelers,  who,  urged  by  motives  of  interest  —  some 
personal,  some  general,  went  to  meet  the  news  they 
were  too  impatient  to  await.  But  this  period  of  expecta- 
tion was  of  short  continuance.  The  First  Consul  crossed 
Saint  Bernard  on  the  2oth  of  May.  On  the  2ist  of  June 
intelligence  of  the  battle  of  Marengo  reached  Paris.  The 
effect  of  this  important  victory  was  to  raise  the  funds 
from  twenty-nine  to  thirty-five  francs;  six  months  pre- 
vious they  had  been  at  only  eleven. 

On  that  day  we  had  breakfasted  and  dined  at  Saint 
Mande\  The  house  being  solitary;  and  no  one  but  our- 
selves arriving  in  the  village  from  Paris,  when  we 
returned  to  town  in  the  evening  we  received  the  news 
amid  all  that  delirium  of  joy  which  inebriated  the 
people  of  the  Faubourgs,  always  so  vehement  in  the  ex- 
pression of  their  sentiments.  Two  hundred  bonfires  were 
blazing  at  once  in  the  quarter  we  had  to  pass  through, 
and  the  populace  dancing  around  them  were  crying, 
<(  Vive  la  R/publique  /  Vive  la  Premier  Consul!  Vive 
VArmte  !*  embracing  and  congratulating  each  other  as 
upon  a  personal  and  family  festivity.  A  circuitous  route 
home  gave  us  an  opportunity  of  enjoying  a  truly  fine 
spectacle,  that  of  a  great  people  affectionate  and  grateful. 

<(  Have  you  seen  ?  "  said  one  to  another,  (<  how  he  writes 
to  the  other  consuls?  That  is  our  man!  (I  HOPE  THE 
PEOPLE  OF  FRANCE  WILL  BE  SATISFIED  WITH  ITS  ARMY  * " 
*  Yes,  yes,8  was  exclaimed  from  all  sides.  (<  The  people 
are  satisfied : "  and  shouts  of  (<  Vive  la  Re"publique  !  Vive 
Bonaparte !  "  were  redoubled.  My  brother  and  I  shared 
the  joyful  enthusiasm ;  my  mother  was  more  calm.  (<  We 
shall  see  hereafter, "  said  she;  (<  Moreau  has  done  great 
things,  of  which  nothing  is  said."  The  coolness  which 
subsisted  between  my  mother  and  General  Bonaparte 
rendered  her  unjust  to  him;  Albert  and  I  told  her  so 
jestingly.  <(  It  is  impossible,"  said  she;  but  repeated, 
«We  shall  see." 

Sometime  afterward,  when  the  officers  of  all  ranks 
were  returning  to  Paris,  and  different  accounts  of  the 
battle  began  to  circulate,  the  conduct  of  General  Keller- 
man  excited  universal  admiration,  and  the  silence  of  the 
First  Consul  about  it  caused  equal  astonishment. 
16 


242  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

The  action  of  General  Kellerman  is  one  of  the  finest, 
of  our  military  triumphs.  At  about  five  o'clock  Desaix 
fell,  struck  to  the  heart  by  a  ball  as  he  led  a  division  of 
4,000  men  against  an  army  of  20,000  infantry  and  10,000 
cavalry,  and  whose  numerical  strength  was  doubled  by  the 
pride  of  victory.  The  French,  rendered  desperate  by 
the  loss  of  a  general  they  adored,  endeavored  in  vain  to 
revenge  his  death;  all  fell  into  disorder.  The  gfh  Light 
Infantry  wavered,  then  gave  way,  and  at  length  in  its 
precipitate  retreat  drew  the  line  with  it,  and  all  appeared 
lost.  Masked  by  mulberry  trees,  from  the  branches  of 
which  the  vines  they  supported  hung  down  in  clustering 
garlands,  and  which  veiled  his  movements  from  the  enemy, 
General  Kellerman  observed  the  events  of  the  battle, 
ready  to  give  his  assistance  wherever  it  would  be  most 
effectual.  It  was  then  that,  by  one  of  those  inspirations 
upon  which  the  destiny  of  armies  and  empires  sometimes 
depends,  General  Kellerman  made,  with  500  horse, 
that  magnificent  charge  which  decided  the  fate  of  the 
day. 

Upon  the  retreat  of  our  troops  the  Austrian  column 
suffered  itself  to  be  hurried  on  by  the  ardor  of  pursuit. 
It  passed  General  Kellerman  with  an  inconsiderate  ra- 
pidity, and  presented  a  defenseless  flank ;  by  this  fault  he 
profited  with  that  promptitude  of  apprehension  which 
distinguishes  the  skillful  warrior.  He  fell  upon  the 
Austrians  like  a  thunderbolt  amidst  their  victorious  dis- 
order, and,  finding  them  unprotected  by  their  firearms, 
made  in  an  instant  more  than  6,000  prisoners,  among 
whom  was  General  Zach,  chief  of  the  staff,  and  the  soul 
of  the  Austrian  army. 

General  Melas,  who,  in  perfect  security  of  victory,  had 
already  resumed  his  route  to  Alexandria,  imagined  him- 
self the  victim  of  some  terrific  sorcery  when  he  found 
himself  surrounded  on  all  sides ;  for  the  French  army  was 
to  pass  the  Bormida  at  the  break  of  day,  and  he  knew 
that  the  brave  Suchet  was  on  his  rear,  his  advanced 
guard  having  already  passed  the  mountains.  When,  there- 
fore, on  the  morning  of  the  isth,  General  Gardane  pre- 
sented himself  at  one  of  the  tetes-de-pont  of  the  Bormida, 
a  parley  was  proposed,  and  General  Melas  capitulated. 

The  character  of  this  general,  at  all  times  either 
perfectly  credulous  or  wholly  incredulous,  made  a  strange 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  243 

exhibition  throughout  the  campaign!  Is  it  not  curious 
to  find  Melas  and  his  council  deciding,  on  the  i3th  of 
June,  the  very  eve  of  the  Battle  of  Marengo,  *  that  the 
existence  of  the  Army  of  Reserve  was  completely  un- 
known to  them;  and  that,  as  the  instructions  of  the 
Aulic  Council  mentioned  only  Masse"na's  army,  the  diffi- 
cult position  in  which  they  were  placed  was  entirely  the 
fault  of  the  Ministry,  and  not  at  all  to  be  attributed  to 
the  General.  » 

The  author  of  the  *  Memorial  du  Dtpdt  de  la  Guerre  *  is 
right  in  the  opinion  that  the  Emperor  acquired  much 
curious  information  respecting  his  campaigns  against  the 
Austrians  from  his  conversations  with  general  officers 
and  statesmen,  Austrian,  Bavarian,  and  Saxon.  I  have 
seen  him  conversing  for  two  hours  together  with  the 
most  distinguished  men  in  Germany,  both  in  the  military 
and  diplomatic  professions;  and  when  he  had  ended  and 
the  interlocutor  departed,  he  has  exclaimed,  rubbing  his 
hands,  <(  There  is  information  for  twenty  pages  of  my 
commentary. w 

Once,  either  at  Compiegne  or  at  Fontainebleau,  having 
just  closed  a  long  interview  with  a  person  to  whom  he 
was  not  sparing  of  his  questions,  and  who  replied  to  him 
with  such  clearness  and  precision,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  such  rapidity,  that  the  Emperor  was  surprised,  he 
stopped  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  him  with  so  striking  an 
expression  of  countenance  that  he  had  no  occasion  to 
speak  his  thoughts. 

The  interlocutor  was  not  intimidated,  and  his  physiog- 
nomy, always  calm,  but  not  inanimate,  betrayed  not  the 
slightest  emotion.  When  he  had  gone,  the  Emperor  re- 
marked to  Junot,  (<  That  is  one  of  the  most  subtle  men  I 
know,  and  yet  I  believe  him  to  be  honest.  Just  now  he 
answered  all  my  questions  with  such  extraordinary  frank- 
ness, that  for  a  moment  I  believed  he  was  making  game 
of  me ; w  and  the  Emperor's  features  as  he  walked  about 
the  room  wore  that  musing  smile  which  gave  such  a 
charm  to  his  countenance. 

(<  But  no,"  he  continued,  w  he  is  right;  the  best  diplo- 
macy is  to  go  straight  to  the  object.  And  then  he  is  a 
brave  man.  Be  particular  in  your  attentions  to  him  in 
your  quality  of  Governor  of  Paris;  do  you  understand 
me?"  This  man  was  M.  de  Bubna. 


244  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

But  why  was  General  Kellerman  refused  in  his  own 
country  a  due  share  of  the  glory  of  the  day?  Even  ad- 
mitting that  the  First  Consul  had  ordered  this  famous 
charge,  he  could  only  have  done  so  vaguely,  and  the 
result  of  its  splendid  execution,  which  decided  the  fate 
of  Italy  and  France,  deserved  some  better  recompense 
than  the  cold  words  of  approbation,  <(You  have  made  a 
pretty  good  charge. w  It  has  been  said  that  the  Emperor, 
in  making  the  father  of  the  General  a  Marshal,  Senator, 
and  Due  de  Valmy,  and  in  giving  great  commands  to 
the  son,  had  discharged  his  debt  of  gratitude.  Now,  I 
think,  first,  that  an  affectionate  word  is  of  as  much  value 
in  such  cases  as  a  more  solid  recompense. 

Then,  Marshal  Kellerman  was  creditor  to  the  State  for 
the  Battle  of  Valmy,  and  this  debt  had  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  that  of  his  son,  whose  military  and  political 
reputation  rested  on  other  services  besides  the  Battle  of 
Marengo.  I  believe,  then,  that  the  Emperor  would  have 
done  him  no  more  than  justice  by  appointing  him  In- 
spector or  Colonel-General,  and  by  giving  him  during 
his  father's  lifetime  the  title  of  Duke  of  Marengo.  He 
had  well  named  Lannes,  Duke  of  Montebello.  Lannes, 
in  gaining  that  battle,  prepared  the  triumph  of  Marengo; 
General  Kellerman  decided  it. 

The  day  of  the  Battle  of  Marengo,  Junot,  who  had 
been  taken  prisoner  by  the  English  on  quitting  Egypt, 
landed  at  Marseilles,  and  reached  his  native  land  once 
more,  after  several  months'  captivity.  A  thousand  times 
lie  has  repeated  to  me  how  greatly  the  joy  of  his  return 
would  have  been  damped  had  he  been  conscious  that  the 
fields  of  Italy  were  again  the  scenes  of  contest,  and  that 
he  could  not  fight  at  his  General's  side.  Alas!  the  same 
day,  and  almost  at  the  same  hour,  while  Desaix  fell 
before  the  murderous  cannon  of  Austria  on  the  field  of 
Marengo,  the  poniard,  which  treason  had  committed  to 
the  hand  of  a  fanatic,  terminated  the  existence  of  Kleber!* 
The  pride  of  our  armies:  they  both  perished  on  the  same 
day,  and  nearly  at  the  same  hour. 

Frequently  during  this  year  of  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
which  was  also  that  of  my  marriage,  have  I  seen  a  din- 
ner party  prolonged  until  nine  o'clock,  because  Bessieres, 

*  Kleber  was  assassinated  at  Cairo  by  a  Turk,  sent  for  that  purpose  by 
the  Vizier,  soon  after  the  defeat  of  the  latter  at  Heliopolis. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  245 

Lannes,  Eugene,  Duroc,  or  Berthier,  or  some  others  of 
his  companions  in  arms,  or  all  together,  explained  to 
Junot,  who  was  greedy  of  the  most  trifling  details,  all 
those  of  this  memorable  affair.  The  table  then  became 
the  plain  of  Marengo;  a  group  of  decanters  at  the  head 
stood  for  the  village,  the  candelabras  at  the  bottom  fig- 
ured as  the  towns  of  Tortona  and  Alexandria,  and  the 
pears,  the  filberts,  and  bunches  of  grapes  represented,  as 
well  as  they  could,  the  Austrian  and  Hungarian  regi- 
ments and  our  brave  troops. 

A  woman  can  have  no  pretensions  to  understand  the 
military  science;  nevertheless,  it  is  a  fact,  that  when  in 
1818  I  passed  through  Alexandria  on  my  road  to  France 
I  remained  a  long  time  at  Marengo,  examining  its  envi- 
rons, and  visited  every  tree.  From  having  so  frequently 
heard  all  the  particulars  of  this  famous  battle  described, 
I  soon  found  myself  on  a  spot  replete  with  recollections 
which  every  surrounding  object  seemed  to  awaken  in  my 
mind.  I  brought  away  two  views  of  the  village  of 
Marengo:  one  which  I  took  from  the  plain,  and  another 
from  a  point  where  the  mistress  of  the  little  inn  had 
placed  me  to  enable  me  to  introduce  into  my  sketch  a  tree 
under  which  they  at  first  laid  the  unfortunate  Desaix, 
believing  that  he  still  breathed. 

Desaix,  it  is  well  known,  had  several  aids-de-camp. 
Among  the  number  were  two  who  made  themselves 
remarkable  by  the  excess  of  their  grief.  One  of  them, 
in  a  voice  broken  by  sobs  exclaimed,  *  Ah,  my  General! 
why  have  I  survived  you,  and  the  army,  and  France  ? 
What  a  loss  have  both  suffered !  w  And  the  good  young  man 
shed  tears  of  sincerity  over  the  corpse  of  him  whom  he 
regretted  as  warmly  as  the  young regretted  Turenne. 

The  other  aid-de-camp  was  also  young,  and  he  wept 
as  earnestly,  but  his  grief  displayed  itself  in  a  different 
manner.  (<Ah,  my  God!  my  general  is  dead!  What  will 
become  of  me  ?  My  God !  what  will  become  of  me  ? w  I 
have  heard  the  First  Consul  imitate  the  accents  of  these 
young  officers;  one  of  them  still  wept  for  his  General 
many  years  after  his  death.  It  was  Rapp,*  a  worthy  and 
honest  creature,  a  good  comrade,  and  in  all  respects  a  man 
much  above  the  degree  in  which  he  had  fixed  himself  by 
the  abruptness  and  apparent  roughness  of  his  manners. 

*  Afterward  General  Count  Rapp,  of  Dantzic  celebrity. 


246  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

FStes  in  Paris,  and  a  Ball  at  Lucien  Bonaparte's  —  The  Gallery  of  the 
Due  de  Brissac  —  Madame  Bonaparte  and  Madame  Lucien  —  First 
Attempt  at  Royal  Assumptions  —  Affecting  Death  of  Madame  Lucien 
—  Last  Visit  to  her  —  Sepulchral  Monument  at  Le  Plessis  Chamant. 

LUCIEN  BONAPARTE,  who  occupied,  as  Minister  of  the 
Interior,  the  Hotel  de  Brissac  during  the  winter  of 
1800,  gave  there  some  splendid  fetes  in  the  fine 
gallery  which  the  Due  de  Brissac  had  added  solely  for 
this  purpose.  My  mother  occasionally  took  me  to  these 
balls ;  at  one  of  them  I  remember  Madame  Bonaparte  * 
took  her  seat  at  the  upper  end  of  the  gallery,  assuming 
already  the  attitude  of  sovereignty.  The  ladies  all  rose 
at  her  entrance  and  when  she  retired.  The  good  and 
simple  Christine  followed  her  with  a  gentle  smile  upon 
her  lips,  and  the  remark  was  frequently  made  that  if  the 
one  was  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul,  the  Chief  Magis- 
trate of  the  Republic,  the  other  was  the  wife  of  his 
brother;  and  that  Madame  Bonaparte  might,  without 
derogation  of  dignity,  have  accorded  the  courtesies  of 
society  and  family  intercourse,  by  giving  her  arm  to 
Madame  Lucien,  instead  of  requiring  her  to  follow  or  pre- 
cede her.  But  Christine  was  MADAME  LUCIEN,  a  name 
which  awoke  no  good  feeling  in  the  mind  of  Madame 
Bonaparte,  for  between  her  and  Lucien  a  mortal  war 
subsisted. 

Apparently,  however,  she  was  very  friendly  both  with 
Lucien  and  his  wife,  and  it  was  with  an  exterior  of 
perfect  complaisance  that  she  thus  obliged  them  to  follow 
her.  But  the  amusing  part  of  the  business  was  that 
Lucien  was  wholly  unconscious  of  these  airs  of  superi- 
ority. The  mild  Christine  often  wept  in  private  over  the 
mortification  to  which  she  was  thus  subjected ;  but  she  was 
careful  to  avoid  irritating  her  husband,  who  would  with- 
out a  doubt  have  repaired  instantly  to  the  Tuileries,  and 
have  there  enacted  a  scena  before  Madame  Bonaparte, 

*Be  it  understood,  once  for  all,  that  in  future  whenever  I  use  the 
term  Madame  Bonaparte  I  speak  of  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul.  For 
Madame  Bonaparte  THE  MOTHER,  I  shall  always  employ  the  latter  title 
or  her  Christian  name, 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  247 

in  which  the  First  Consul  would  probably  have  sup- 
ported him,  for  he  had  sincerely  attached  himself  to 
Madame  Lucien  since  he  had  learned  to  appreciate  her 
excellent  qualities. 

But  a  short  time  afterward  we  experienced  a  heavy 
affliction  in  the  death  of  Madame  Lucien.*  I  was  affected 
by  it  as  if  she  had  been  connected  with  us  by  closer  ties 
than  those  of  friendship.  There  was  not,  it  is  true,  be- 
tween us  all  the  points  of  contact  which  constitute  an 
intimate  connection;  but  our  friendship  had  strengthened 
materially  since  her  residence  in  Paris;  our  intercourse, 
if  not  familiar,  was  constant;  and  her  matured  imagina- 
tion, the  justness  of  her  reasoning,  her  love  for  her  hus- 
band, which  taught  her  to  make  his  gratification  her  chi^f 
object,  were  all  circumstances  which  daily  endeared  her 
to  us.  My  mother,  who  was  tenderly  attached  to  her, 
bitterly  lamented  her  loss. 

We  went  to  see  her  the  day  before  her  death.  No 
visits,  it  may  easily  be  believed,  were  permitted ;  but  our 
intimacy  gave  us  almost  the  rights  of  relationship.  We 
found  her  in  a  small  room  adjoining  her  bedroom.  Her 
apartment  had  been  changed  to  admit  more  air,  for  she 
was  suffocating;  and  to  facilitate  her  respiration  she  was 
lying  on  a  camp  bed  with  two  mattresses.  This  change 
afforded  her  some  relief,  she  told  us,  adding,  with  a 
sweet  and  melancholy  smile,  but  without  any  accent  of 
complaint,  "This  bed  reminds  me  of  my  own  bed  at  St. 
Maximin, —  I  can  neither  sleep  nor  breathe  under  those 
thick  curtains,  and  upon  those  beds  of  down. w 

At  each  word  she  looked  at  my  mother  with  a  remark- 
able expression.  Her  eyes  were  animated  by  fever,  her 
cheeks,  one  in  particular,  were  highly  colored,  and  varied 
in  tint  with  every  emotion  that  agitated  her,  as  is 
always  the  case  with  persons  suffering  under  a  sudden 
attack  of  consumption.  <(  Christine, w  said  Madame  Laetitia 
Bonaparte,  (<you  know  you  must  not  talk,  the  physicians 
have  positively  forbidden  it;  and  if  you  mean  to  recover 
you  must  attend  to  them. B  The  patient  shook  her  head, 
with  the  smile  so  afflicting  to  those  who  know  that  but 
few  days,  perhaps  but  few  hours,  only  are  between  that 
moment  and  dissolution. 

*She  was  enceinte,  and  it  was  said  that  her  death  was  occasioned 
by  the  want  of  skill  of  her  medical  attendant 


248  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

(<  Laurette, w  said  Madame  Lucien,  (<come  near  me,  for 
I  am  sure  that  a  deathbed  does  not  alarm  you.*  She 
took  my  hand;  she  perceived  the  effect  which  its  burn- 
ing pressure  made  upon  me.  <(  Ah !  *  said  she,  <(  I  meant 
your  mother;  to  you  I  am  but  a  stranger,  and  I  frighten 
you,  do  I  not  ? w  I  wept,  and  only  replied  by  embracing 
her.  She  pushed  me  gently  away,  saying,  <(  No,  no ;  do 
not  embrace  me,  the  air  I  breathe  is  poisonous.  When 
I  recover,  as  mamma  says w 

We  took  leave,  and  this  adieu  was  the  last.  We  saw 
her  no  more.  She  died  the  following  day.  As  soon  as 
my  mother  received  the  intelligence  she  ordered  her 
horses  and  hastened  to  the  Hotel  of  the  Interior;  Lucien 
was  at  Neuilly.  My  mother  went  there  to  seek  him, 
but  we  were  not  permitted  to  see  him.  My  brother-in- 
law  came  to  our  carriage  to  tell  us  that  he  was  not  in 
a  state  to  speak  even  to  his  sisters  or  his  mother.  (<  I 
have  torn  him  from  that  unfortunate  house,*  said  he, 
<(  where  everything  reminds  him  of  the  loss  he  has  just 
experienced.  He  was  in  the  most  violent  despair.8 

Madame  Lucien  was  buried  in  the  park  of  the  mansion 
at  Le  Plessis  Chamant.  Her  husband  erected  there  to 
her  memory  a  monument  of  white  marble,  surrounded 
by  an  iron  palisade.  When  he  went  to  Le  Plessis  he 
took  his  daughters  there,  that  they  might  pray  with  him, 
young  as  they  were.  I  have  heard  these  notions  ridi- 
culed; but  for  my  own  part,  being  of  opinion  that 
the  dead  may  be  long  lamented,  I  can  easily  believe  that 
Madame  Lucien  was  a  character  to  excite  such  regret, 
and  that  it  might  be  great  and  enduring.  I  shall  never 
forget  when  my  mother  was  on  the  point  of  death  in 
1799,  Madame  Lucien  was  with  Madame  Bonaparte  the 
mother,  and  that  they  came  to  seek  and  comfort  the 
poor  young  girl  whom  both  believed  an  orphan! 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  249 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

An  Offer  of  Marriage,  and  My  Mother's  Projects  —  Madame  de 
Caseaux's  Interference  —  Junot's  Arrival  at  Paris  —  His  Interview 
with  the  First  Consul  at  Malmaison  —  Long  and  Interesting  Con- 
versation of  Junot  with  Bonaparte — The  First  Consul  Threatened 
with  Danger  —  Othello  and  Madame  Foures  —  Bonaparte's  Senti- 
ments Toward  Kleber,  and  His  Agitation  —  His  Advice  to  Junot, 
and  the  Appointment  of  Junot  to  the  Command  of  Paris  —  Junot 
Lodges  at  Meo's —  His  Predilections  for  Burgundians  —  His  Hotel 
in  the  Rue  de  Verneuil  —  Project  for  His  Marriage  —  Junot's  First 
Visit  to  My  Mother  and  the  Society  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain 
—  Translation  of  the  Body  of  Turenne  to  the  Invalides. 

MY  MOTHER  was  very  unwell;  the  cruel  malady  under 
which  she  at  length  succumbed  had  already  taken 
possession  of  her.  She  went  out  but  little,  re- 
clined the  greater  part  of  the  day  upon  her  sofa,  and  re- 
ceived in  the  evening  the  friends  who  came  to  bear  her 
company.  One  of  the  most  assiduous  of  these  was  Ma- 
dame de  Caseaux,  who  was  sincerely  attached  to  her.  I 
was  myself  intimately  connected  with  this  lady's  daugh- 
ter, and  few  days  passed  that  did  not  bring  us  together. 

My  mother  at  that  time  had  a  marriage  for  me  in  con- 
templation ;  probably  it  might  have  conduced  to  my  hap- 
piness, but  Madame  de  Caseaux  thought  not,  on  account 
of  the  great  difference  of  age  between  my  mother's  in- 
tended son-in-law  and  myself.  <(  Laurette,  Laurette," 
said  she,  enforcing  her  words  with  her  extended  finger, 
"it  is  not  wise,  my  child,  to  marry  one's  grandfather.  * 

My  mother  did  not  like  contradiction  in  the  most  triv- 
ial matters;  and  it  may  be  easily  conceived  that  the  very 
reasonable  opposition  of  her  devoted  friend  on  an  affair 
of  so  much  importance  irritated  her  extremely.  Her  dis- 
pleasure proceeded  to  the  extent  of  preventing  my  visits 
to  Madame  de  Caseaux  when  she  was  unable  to  accom- 
pany me  herself;  on  this  point  I  must  say  she  was  un- 
just to  her  friend,  who  would  speak  her  mind  to  her,  or 
to  me  before  her,  on  the  subject  of  this  marriage,  but 
never  permitted  herself  to  mention  it,  except  in  her  pres- 
ence, her  rigid  principles  absolutely  interdicting  such  an 
interference  in  the  relations  of  mother  and  child. 


250  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

As  soon  as  Andoche  Jtmot  arrived  in  Paris  he  hastened 
to  pay  his  respects  to  his  General,  who  was  then  at  Mal- 
maison.  What  events  had  taken  place  since  their  separa- 
tion! What  miracles  had  not  one  man  accomplished! 
How  many  fresh  laurels  were  flourishing  around  him! 
Junot,  in  approaching  him,  was  oppressed  by  a  thousand 
sentiments,  in  which,  no  doubt,  joy  preponderated;  but  it 
was  chastened  by  a  profound  respect,  which,  <(  far  from 
diminishing,  *  he  has  often  said  to  me  "  his  affection  for 
Bonaparte,  had  no  other  effect  than  to  increase  it. M 

(<  Well,  Junot,  *  said  the  First  Consul  to  him,  as  soon  as 
they  were  alone,  (<  so  you  were  stupid  enough  to  suffer 
yourself  to  be  taken  by  those  English.  But,  according  to 
your  letter  to  me  from  Marseilles,  it  would  appear  that 
they  expected  you.  And  notwithstanding  the  positive 
orders  I  left  with  him,  Kleber  would  not  let  you  go? 
It  is  all  very  well;  apparently,  he  was  afraid  that  I 
should  have  too  many  friends  about  me.  What  mean- 
ness! I  knew  very  well  that  he  did  not  love  me;  but  to 
adopt  such  paltry  means  of  expressing  his  enmity !  Have 
you  seen  his  letter  to  the  Directory? w  Junot  replied 
that  Duroc  had  given  it  him  to  read  while  at  breakfast. 
<(  However, w  continued  the  First  Consul,  <(  his  tragical  end 
has  cleared  all  accounts.  I  have  had  a  great  loss  in  him ; 
but  the  irreparable  loss,  my  dear  friend,  was  Desaix! 
Desaix!  —  this  is  one  of  the  misfortunes  which  strikes 
the  country.  I  shall  never  console  myself  for  the  loss  of 
Desaix ! w  * 

The  First  Consul  continued  his  walk  some  time  without 
speaking;  he  was  visibly  affected.  But  he  never  suffered 
a  too  lively  emotion  to  be  long  observed;  and  returning 
to  Junot,  he  said  to  him  with  an  enchanting  expression 
of  goodness:  <(Well,  and  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  I 
have  always  told  you  that  I  would  give  you  proofs  of 
my  friendship  as  soon  as  I  was  in  a  condition  to  do  so. 
What  are  your  views  ?  Are  you  inclined  for  the  service  ?w 
and  he  looked  askance  at  Junot  with  an  air  of  good- 
humored  malice.  (<  Have  you  a  mind  that  I  should  send 
you  to  the  Army  of  the  Rhine?  M 

*  I  have  heard  the  Emperor,  speaking  of  General  Desaix  in  1808, 
say,  in  the  presence  of  above  thirty  persons,  chiefly  strangers,  <(  Desaix 
was  the  most  estimable  man  I  have  known:  if  he  had  not  died  I  should 
have  made  him  second  to  myself. w 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  251 

Junot's  color  heightened  to  crimson,  which  always  hap- 
pened when  he  was  strongly  affected.  ((  Do  you  already 
wish  to  relieve  yourself  of  me,  my  General  !  However, 
if  you  command  it,  I  will  go  and  let  General  Moreau 
know  that  the  officers  of  the  Army  of  Italy  have  lost 
none  of  their  courage  in  Egypt. B  *  There  now,  my 
youngster,  off  at  a  word!*  said  the  First  Consul.  "No, 
no.  Monsieur  Junot,  you  do  not  quit  me  in  such  a  hurry. 
I  have  a  great  regard  for  General  Moreau,  but  not 
sufficient  to  make  him  a  present  of  my  best  friends.* 
And  he  gave  Junot  a  pull  of  the  ear. 

a Junot, M  continued  he,  in  a  more  serious  tone,  "I  in- 
tend to  appoint  you  Commandant  of  Paris.  It  is  a  place 
of  confidence,  particularly  at  this  moment,  and  I  can- 
not make  a  better  choice.  But  w  —  and  he  looked  nar- 
rowly round  him,  as  they  continued  to  walk,  to  observe 
whether  anyone  was  within  hearing*  — w  but  you  must 
reflect  before  you  accept  this  post.  You  must  at  once 
add  ten  years  to  your  age;  for  if  it  be  necessary  that 
the  Commandant  of  Paris  should  be  attached  to  my  per- 
son, it  is  equally  so  that  he  should  be  extremely  prud- 
ent, and  that  he  should  pay  the  utmost  attention  to 
whatever  concerns  my  safety."  "Ah!  my  General  !'* 
exclaimed  Junot. 

<(  Be  quiet,"  said  the  First  Consul,  <(and  speak  low. 
Yes  you  must  watch  over  my  safety.  I  am  surrounded 
with  dangers.  I  should  make  no  effort  to  avoid  them  if 
I  were  still  the  General  Bonaparte  vegetating  at  Paris 
before  and  even  after  the  4th  of  October.  Then  my  life 
was  my  own  —  I  cared  little  for  it;  but  now  it  is  mine 
no  longer;  my  destiny  has  been  exalted,  it  is  connected 
with  that  of  a  great  nation,  and  for  this  reason  my  life 
is  menaced.  The  Powers  of  Europe,  who  would  divide 
France,  wish  me  out  of  their  way.w  He  knit  his  brow, 
drew  his  hand  across  his  forehead  as  if  to  banish  an 
importunate  idea;  then,  recovering  an  air  of  perfect 
calmness,  he  passed  his  arm  under  Junot's,  and  resumed 
the  conversation  on  State  affairs. 

<(  I  am  about  to  appoint  you  Commandant  of  Paris,  as  I 
told  you;  but  you  must  marry.  That  is  not  only  suit- 

*  This  conversation  took  place  in  the  park  01  Malmaison,  and  lasted 
above  an  hour ;  it  was  the  second  time  that  Junot  had  seen  the  First 
Consul,  and  not  the  first,  as  I  have  said  above. 


252  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

able  to  the  dignity  of  the  situation  you  will  occupy,  but 
I  know  you,  and  require  it  of  you  for  your  own  inter- 
est. *  After  a  long  pause,  he  asked,  <(  What  is  become  of 
Othello  ?»*  «He  is  still  in  Egypt,  General,  but  I  in- 
tend to  have  him  brought  over  by  the  first  convoy.® 
The  First  Consul  made  an  inclination  of  the  head  in 
token  of  assent.  (<  And  the  mother  ? *  said  he  to  Junot. 
*  She  also  remains  in  Egypt,  General ;  the  Commissary 
General  has  taken  care  of  her."  "That  is  well.* 

And  here  the  First  Consul  stopped  short,  then  walked 
on  again,  assumed  an  air  of  embarrassment  not  usual 
with  him,  and  at  length,  standing  before  a  tree,  plucking 
off  its  leaves,  after  having  cast  his  eyes  round  to  see  if 
anyone  were  near:  "And  Pauline, f  what  has  become  of 
her  ?  *  asked  he,  with  an  accent  of  marked  interest.  w  I 
have  learned, w  he  continued,  with  a  bitter  smile,  <(  and 
that  from  the  English  journals,  that  Kleber  treated  her 
ill  after  my  departure;  my  attachment,  it  would  seem, 
was  sufficient  title  to  proscription  from  him!  Those 
whom  I  loved  had  not  the  good  fortune  to  please  him." 
Junot  made  no  answer.  He  felt,  as  he  has  since  told 
me,  that  he  could  not  accuse  Kleber,  who  had  just  fallen 
by  so  tragical  a  death,  and  he  was  silent. 

<(  Did  you  not  hear  ?  *  said  the  First  Consul,  a  little  out 
of  humor,  and  raising  his  voice.  <(  Is  it  true  that  this 
man  acted  brutally,  as  the  English  relate,  toward  a 
woman  so  mild  and  amiable  as  this  poor  Bellilote  ?  *  <(  I 
was  not  with  General  Kleber  when  all  this  took  place, 
General;  but  I  know  that  in  fact  she  was  not  well  used 
by  him,  and  that  when  she  had  occasion  to  request  her 
passport  it  was  by  the  intervention  of  Desgenettes  that 
she  obtained  it,  without  which  I  believe  the  General-in- 
Chief  would  have  detained  her  a  long  time  waiting  for  it.  * 

Junot  smiled,  without,  however,  any  other  idea  than 
the  detention  of  Madame  Foures;  but  Napoleon  mis- 
understood the  smile,  and,  seizing  Junot's  arm,  gripped 
it  so  violently  as  to  leave  the  marks  of  his  hand.  He 
became  pale,  and  said  with  a  voice  trembling  rather  with 
anger  than  emotion :  (<  What  do  you  understand  ?  What 
do  you  mean  ?  Could  that  man *  And  he  was  so 

*  A  natural  child  which  had  been  born  to  Junot  in  Egypt  of  a  young 
Abyssinian  slave  named  Araxarane. 
f  Madame  Foures. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  253 

violently  agitated  that  his  words  could  not  find  utterance. 
It  was  not  love,  it  was  not  even  remembrance  of  love, 
which  produced  this  almost  alarming  state;  the  bare 
suspicion  that  Kleber  might  have  succeeded  him  in  the 
affections  of  Madame  Foures  set  his  brain  on  fire. 

Junot  recalled  him  to  the  true  state  of  the  question; 
he  told  him  that  Madame  Foures  had  only  encountered 
difficulties  in  procuring  a  passport  from  General  Kleber, 
which,  in  fact,  was  the  case  with  everyone  who  at  that 
time  desired  to  leave  Egypt.  But  he  repeated  that  she 
had  met  with  every  assistance  from  the  excellent  Des- 
genettes,  who  obtained  all  she  required,  and  was  toward 
her,  as  he  is  to  everyone,  and  always  will  be,  kind  and 
obliging. 

The  First  Consul  quickly  recovered  himself,  and  changed 
the  subject  of  conversation  by  recurring  to  that  which 
was  personal  to  Junot.  He  spoke  at  length  upon  the 
importance  which  he  wished  him  to  acquire  in  the  situa- 
tion of  Commandant  of  Paris,  and  gave  him  such  advice 
on  this  subject  as  a  father  would  give  to  his  son.  This 
remarkable  conversation  lasted  above  an  hour. 

On  his  arrival  at  Paris  Junot  had  not  set  up  any  estab- 
lishment. Uncertain  of  his  next  destination,  he  thought 
it  useless  to  make  arrangements  which  an  order  to  de- 
part might  compel  him  to  abandon  at  a  moment's  notice. 
He  lodged  at  the  house  of  Meo,  a  good  restaurateur  of 
that  period,  and  whose  hotel  had  some  resemblance  to 
the  fine  establishment  of  Meurice;  but  when  the  First 
Consul  announced  to  him  the  remarkable  change  which 
the  place  he  was  aboiit  to  occupy  would  necessarily  make 
in  his  situation,  he  desired  him  at  the  same  time  to  find 
a  residence  suitable  to  his  new  dignity;  and  Junot  re- 
quested his  family,  whom  he  had  drawn  around  him  at 
his  Hotel,  to  look  out  for  one.  There  were,  no  doubt, 
great  numbers  in  Paris  in  the  open  and  cheerful  situa- 
tions of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  or  the  Chausse" 
d'Antin,  all  handsome  and  newly  decorated. 

I  know  not  how  they  persuaded  him  to  fix  upon  a 
Hotel  in  the  Rue  de  Verneuil,  and  even  in  the  dullest 
and  dirtiest  part  of  it;  but  this  house  was  hired,  fur- 
nished, and  ready  for  occupation  in  less  than  three  weeks. 
Junot  installed  himself  in  it  as  Commandant  of  Paris  in 
the  course  of  the  summer  of  1800.  With  handsome  car- 


254  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

riages,  the  finest  horses,  and  the  best  wines  of  Bur- 
gundy* in  his  cellars,  he  then  commenced  his  search 
for  a  wife. 

The  First  Consul  had  especially  recommended  him  to 
marry  a  rich  wife.  <(  Willingly, M  replied  Junot,  v  pro- 
vided she  please  my  taste;  but  how  is  that  to  be  done, 
when  almost  all  heiresses  are  superlatively  ugly  ?  * 

He  was  one  morning  visiting  a  lady  of  his  acquaint- 
ance, and  who  happened  to  be  a  friend  of  ours.  He 
spoke  of  the  order  he  had  received  from  the  First  Con- 
sul to  marry,  and  his  own  desire  to  enjoy  domestic 
society.  (<  Have  you  been  to  visit  Madame  de  Permon  ?  * 
inquired  the  person  to  whom  he  spoke.  <(  No ;  and  I  re- 
proach myself  daily.  But  why  ask  ? "  (<  Because  I 
believe  that  her  daughter  would  suit  you  exactly.* 
(<  Her  daughter!  w  exclaimed  Junot:  (<  she  was  but  a  child 
when  I  went  to  Egypt. w 

<(  She  is  young,  but  no  longer  a  child.  She  is  sixteen. 
But  attend:  I  have  a  great  inclination  to  bestow  her  in 
marriage  at  the  present  moment,  but  her  mother  is  so 
bent  upon  a  match  she  proposes  for  her,  and  which  has 
not  common  sense,  for  the  intended  is  old  enough  to  be 
her  grandfather,  that  she  turned  a  deaf  ear  when  I  opened 
my  project  to  her  the  day  before  yesterday;  though  you 
must  understand  that  the  party  in  question  is  a  charming 
bachelor,  and  one  of  the  first  names  in  France.  * 

"  And  what  would  you  have  me  do  against  all  these 
obstacles ?J)  said  Junot,  laughing.  "  You  tell  me  of  a 
woman  with  twenty  admirers;  I  do  not  like  so  many 
rivals.  Mademoiselle  Loulou  —  I  believe  that  is  what  she 
was  called — must  be  a  little  personage  of  great  preten- 
sions, a  spoiled  child,  and  thoroughly  insupportable.  No, 
no;  I  kiss  your  hands;"  and  thus  taking  leave,  he  has- 
tened out  of  the  house. 

From  Madame  d'Orsay,  Junot  went  to  call  upon  Ma- 
dame Hamelin,  another  lady  also  of  our  acquaintance  — 

*A  mania  which  Junot  carried  to  excess  was  that  of  being  served 
only  by  Burgundians.  It  was  natural  that  his  countrymen  should  have 
the  preference  where  there  was  an  equality  of  talent;  but  if  ever  so 
heavy  or  stupid,  the  name  of  Burgundian  was  sufficient  to  ensure  it. 
This  was  the  history  of  the  Hotel  in  the  Rue  de  Verneuil ;  a  Burgundian 
found  it  for  him,  a  Burgundian  furnished  it,  and  a  Burgundian  was  put 
in  charge  of  the  establishment. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  255 

an  amiable  woman  who  often  visited  my  mother,  and 
was  much  esteemed  by  her.  Endowed  with  superior 
talents,  she  took  pleasure  when  I  was  in  company  with 
her  in  bringing  me  into  notice  —  an  unusual  mark  of 
kindness  which  goes  direct  to  the  hearts  of  women  in 
general,  and  which  mine  was  not  backward  in  acknowl- 
edging. 

Junot  had  scarcely  entered  when  his  search  for  a  wife 
became  the  topic  of  conversation.  "  Ah,"  said  she,  "  there 
is  a  young  person  whom  I  should  like  to  recommend  to 
you,  but  she  is  about  to  marry  and  must  not  be  thought 
of.*  "So,"  said  Junot,  "because  she  is  going  to  marry, 
I  am  not  to  hear  her  name. "  «  Oh,  with  all  my  heart ; 
you  knew  her  when  she  was  but  a  child.  It  is  Mademoi- 
selle de  Permon." 

Junot  laughed;  it  seemed  as  if  I  haunted  him.  How- 
ever, as  Madame  Hamelin's  frankness  and  her  intelli- 
gence were  well  known  to  him,  and  as  she  had  pronounced 
my  name  with  interest,  he  asked  her  some  questions 
concerning  me,  which  she  answered  with  the  feeling  of 
an  amiable  and  sensible  woman. 

"Why  have  you  not  paid  your  respects  to  her  mother 
since  your  return  ? M  she  inquired,  seeing  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  garden  with  an  absent  air.  w  I  do  not  know, 
but  it  appears  that  I  have  done  wisely, "  he  replied,  smiling ; 
"  for  suppose  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  your  young 
friend. J)  "  Well  !  you  would  have  married  her.  Are  you 
not  wishing  to  marry  ? "  "  But  you  have  told  me  your- 
self that  Madame  de  Permon  has  a  strong  desire  to  marry 
her  to  M.  de  V-  — ,  and  if  she  wills  it,  it  will  be,  for 
she  is  not  one  to  yield;  I  have  seen  instances  of  that 
which  I  shall  not  forget." 

The  same  day,  Junot,  bearing  in  mind  his  conversa- 
tion with  Madame  Hamelin,  found  out  a  person  whom 
he  knew  to  be  intimate  with  my  mother  and  me,  and 
made  himself  acquainted  with  all  that  concerned  me,  and 
also  with  my  mother's  intentions  respecting  M.  de  V-  — ; 
they  were  not  doubtful,  for  she  had  no  stronger  desire 
than  to  conclude  the  marriage.  Junot  took  his  resolu- 
tion at  once;  he  had  engaged  to  wait  upon  my  mother 
with  Madame  Hamelin  the  following  evening;  however, 
he  excused  himself  upon  some  pretext,  but  said  nothing 
of  the  true  cause. 


256  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

At  this  time,  my  mother,  much  out  of  health,  did  not 
quit  her  sofa.  My  brother  and  I  exerted  ourselves  to 
the  utmost  to  lessen  the  ennui  of  her  retirement.  All 
her  friends,  and  a  crowd  of  acquaintances,  assisted  us  in 
endeavoring  to  make  her  forget  that  she  was  condemned 
to  seclusion  for  the  cure  of  a  complaint  from  which  she 
might  never  recover.  Thanks  to  the  care  and  advice  of 
Dr.  Backer,  she  was  now  mending;  as  she  did  not  suf- 
fer, we  were  gay.  We  had  music  and  singing,  and  when 
we  were  not  afraid  of  too  much  noise  we  danced  to  the 
sound  of  our  own  voices.  We  laughed  and  enjoyed  our- 
selves; in  short,  we  were  happy. 

Thus  the  summer  of  1800  passed.  The  end  of  Septem- 
ber arrived.  A  great  change,  meanwhile,  had  taken  place 
in  our  family.  The  two  marriages  which  my  mother  had 
proposed  for  me  were  broken  off;  one  for  pecuniary 
reasons,  the  other  because  I  had  thrown  myself  at  her 
feet,  entreating  her,  by  her  love  for  me,  not  to  make  me 
a  sacrifice  and  my  life  miserable. 

My  mother  was  perfectly  amiable,  and  she  loved  me ; 
she  therefore  broke  off  a  marriage  which  in  other  respects 
was  suitable  enough,  but  to  which  I  had  so  thorough  an 
antipathy  that  I  should  have  doomed  myself  and  my 
husband  to  misery  by  saying  YES.  I  was  delighted  with 
this  change  in  my  lot.  My  friends  —  whether  from  at- 
tachment to  me,  or  whether  from  that  sentiment  which 
makes  a  young  girl  always  unwilling  that  her  companion 
should  marry  before  her  —  rejoiced  in  seeing  me  at  liberty 
for  the  following  winter. 

One  evening — it  was  the  2ist  of  September  —  about  a 
dozen  persons  were  assembled  in  my  mother's  drawing- 
room,  chatting,  deciphering  charades,  and  laughing,  when 
suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  the  valet  de  chambre  an- 
nounced General  Junot.  In  an  instant,  as  by  a  stroke  of 
magic,  all  was  silence.  This  effect  was  so  sudden  and  so 
striking  that  the  General  was  a  little  embarrassed;  but 
my  mother's  reception  reassured  him.  She  held  out  her 
hand  to  him,  reproached  him  in  the  most  friendly  manner 
for  the  long  delay  of  his  visit,  made  him  sit  down  by  her 
side,  and  attended  only  to  him. 

The  General  could  not  have  chosen  a  worse  day  for 
his  visit  to  my  mother;  no  individual  of  his  acquaintance 
was  present.  The  whole  party  belonged  to  the  Faubourg 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  257 

St.  Germain,  and  the  sort  of  welcome  a  General  of  the 
Republic  would  find  among  a  circle  of  emigrants  re- 
turned within  the  last  six  months  may  be  easily  imagined. 
But  my  mother  could  act  the  mistress  of  the  house  to 
perfection.  She  saw  that  General  Junot  might  find  him- 
self in  a  constrained  position,  and  she  exerted  herself  so 
effectually  that  he  was  very  soon  as  much  at  his  ease  by 
her  side  as  if  he  had  been  one  of  our  most  intimate 
associates. 

The  distinctive  character  of  Junot's  mind  was  acute- 
ness  and  rapidity  of  penetration.  He  understood  that 
this  was  not  the  place  for  speaking  of  the  First  Consul. 
He  was  determined  to  hear  nothing  to  his  prejudice;  but 
neither  would  my  mother,  though  she  was  no  longer 
partial  to  him,  have  suffered  anything  to  be  said  against 
him  in  her  house. 

Junot  spoke  of  Egypt,  of  what  he  had  seen  there  which 
was  foreign  to  our  manners,  with  that  ability  which  all 
who  knew  him  are  so  well  aware  of.  Albert,  who  had 
been  spending  the  evening  at  Madame  Leclerc's,  soon 
came  in,  and  his  presence  emboldened  Junot  to  propose 
to  my  mother  that  she  should,  on  the  following  day,  go 
to  the  Hotel  de  Salm  to  witness  the  procession  which 
was  to  pass  the  Quai  de  Voltaire. 

The  occasion  was  worth  the  trouble;  it  was  the  trans- 
lation of  the  body  of  Turenne  from  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes,  where  it  had  been  deposited  since  the  violation 
of  the  tombs  of  St.  Denis,  to  the  Musde  des  Augustins 
aux  Invalides.  As  Junot  was  to  superintend  the  cere- 
mony in  his  quality  of  Commandant  of  Paris,  he  was 
desirous  that  we  should  see  him  in  his  glory,  and  I  be- 
lieve this  was  the  true  motive  of  the  zeal  he  manifested 
in  overcoming  my  mother's  objections  on  the  score  of 
her  health. 

"Well,  then,"  said  she  at  length,  <(  I  will  go  and  see  our 
two  heroes  pass,  the  living  and  the  dead;  but  the  living 
soldier  must  promise  to  come  and  dine  with  me  after  he 
has  seen  M.  le  Mare*chal  installed  in  his  new  habitation, 
or  I  shall  not  go."  Junot  promised,  and  retired,  leaving 
a  most  advantageous  impression  on  a  party  which,  with 
the  exception  of  my  mother  and  brother,  were  certainly 
by  no  means  predisposed  in  his  favor. 

The  following  day  we  repaired  to  the  Hotel  de  Salm; 
17 


258  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

we  were  conducted  to  a  drawing-room,  in  which  Junot 
had  placed  a  large  armchair,  with  pillows  and  a  foot- 
stool, for  my  mother;  the  -valet  de  chambre  of  the  General 
said  he  was  ready  to  execute  any  orders  that  might  be 
given  to  him. 

(<  Does  your  master,  *  replied  my  mother,  (<  suppose  I 
am  one  of  those  invalids  to  whom  he  is  conveying  the 
body  of  Turenne?'*  She  was,  however,  very  sensible  of 
the  attentions  paid  to  her,  and  when  Junot  passed,  he 
saluted  us  in  so  marked  a  manner  as  to  draw  the  atten- 
tion of  everyone ;  a  person  in  the  crowd  was  heard  to  say, 
on  seeing  the  General  bow  to  my  mother  repeatedly: 
<(  No  doubt  that  is  the  widow  of  the  Marshal  Turenne !  * 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

Junot's  Assiduities  to  my  Mother,  and  his  Silence  toward  me  —  First 
Reports  of  my  Marriage  with  Junot — A  Family  Council  —  Visit  of 
Junot  —  Demand  of  my  Hand  —  Consent  of  my  Mother  and  Brother 

—  Junot's  Declaration,  and  my  Embarrassment  —  Junot's  Thought- 
lessness and  Silence  toward    Bonaparte  —  My  Mother's  Reproaches 

—  Junot  at  the  Tuileries  —  Duroc's  Good -nature  —  Conversation   of 
Bonaparte  with  Junot  relating  to  his  Marriage  —  Marriage  Portion 
and  Presents. 

TEN  days    had    elapsed    from   the    2ist   of    September, 
when  Junot  first  presented  himself  at  my  mother's, 
and   now    regularly    every    night    he    repeated    his 
visit.     He  never  spoke  to  me,  but  placed  himself  beside 
my  mother's    sofa,  chatted  with  her,  or  with  any  of    his 
acquaintance    who    happened    to    be     present,    but    never 
approached  the  group  to  which  I  belonged,  and  if  at  this 
epoch  he  had  ceased  to  come  to  our  house  I  might  have 
affirmed   that    I  scarcely  knew  him. 

But,  however  undistinguished  I  had  been  by  any 
attention  on  his  part,  the  society  in  which  we  moved 
had  already  decided  that  I  was  his  destined  bride;  the 
report  was  brought  to  me  by  my  friend  Laure  de  Caseaux, 
and,  with  great  indignation,  I  repeated  it  to  my  mother 
and  brother;  they  partook  of  my  feelings  upon  the 
subject,  and  having  received  a  summons  to  attend  my 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  259 

drawing-master,  I  left  them  in  my  mother's  bedroom 
still  discussing  the  steps  to  be  pursued,  for  it  was  yet 
but  noon,  and  on  account  of  the  weak  state  of  her  health 
she  did  not  rise  before  that  time. 

While  we  were  thus  respectively  engaged,  a  carriage 
drove  up  to  the  door,  and  a  waiting  maid  came  in  to 
inquire  if  General  Junot  could  be  admitted.  "  Yes,  yes, 
let  him  come  up, "  said  my  mother ;  "  but,  good  God ! 
what  can  bring  him  here  at  this  hour  ? "  Junot  had 
scarcely  entered  the  chamber  before  he  asked  permission 
to  close  the  door,  and,  seating  himself  by  the  bedside, 
said  to  my  mother,  as  he  took  her  hand,  that  he  was 
come  to  present  a  request,  adding,  with  a  smile :  "  and  it 
must  be  granted.0  "If  it  be  possible,  it  is  done,8  said 
my  mother. 

(( That  depends  upon  you  and  him,"  replied  the  Gen- 
eral, turning  to  Albert.  He  stopped  a  moment,  and  then 
continued  in  the  tone  of  a  person  recovering  from  a 
violent  embarrassment :  "  I  am  come  to  ask  the  hand  of 
your  daughter ;  will  you  grant  it  me  ?  I  give  you  my 
word,"  and  he  proceeded  in  a  tone  of  more  assurance, 
"  and  it  is  that  of  a  man  of  honor,  that  I  will  make  her 
happy.  I  can  offer  her  an  establishment  worthy  of  her 
and  of  her  family.  Come,  Madame  de  Permon,  answer 
me,  with  the  frankness  with  which  I  put  my  request, 
Yes  or  No." 

"  My  dear  General, "  said  my  mother,  "  I  shall  answer 
with  all  the  frankness  you  have  claimed,  and  which  you 
know  to  belong  to  my  character;  and  I  will  tell  you  that 
a  few  minutes  before  your  arrival  I  was  saying  to  Albert 
that  you  were  the  man  whom,  of  all  others,  I  should 
choose  for  my  son-in-law." 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Junot  joyfully. 

"Yes;  but  that  says  nothing  for  your  request.  First, 
you  must  understand  that  she  has  no  fortune;  her  por- 
tion is  too  small  to  be  of  any  value  to  you.  Then,  I  am 
very  ill,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  my  daughter  will  be 
willing  to  quit  me  at  present;  besides,  she  is  still  very 
young.  Reflect  well  upon  all  this,  and  add  to  it  that  my 
daughter  has  been  educated  amid  a  society  and  in 
habits  which  it  is  very  possible  may  displease  you. 
Reflect  for  eight  or  ten  days,  and  then  come  to  me,  and 
we  will  enter  further  into  your  projects." 


260  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

<(  I  will  not  wait  twenty-four  hours,*  said  Junot  firmly. 
(<  Listen,  Madame  de  Permon.  I  have  not  taken  my 
present  step  without  having  fully  made  up  my  mind. 
Will  you  grant  me  your  daughter  ?  Will  you,  Permon, 
give  me  your  sister  ?  I  love  her,  and  I  again  swear  to 
you  I  will  make  her  as  happy  as  a  woman  can  be.w 

Albert  approached  General  Junot,  and,  taking  his  hand, 
said  in  a  voice  of  emotion,  (<  My  dear  Junot,  I  give  you 
my  sister  with  joy;  and,  believe  me,  the  day  when  I 
shall  call  you  brother  will  be  one  of  the  happiest  of  my 
life."  (<And  I,"  said  my  mother,  extending  her  arms  to 
him,  (( am  happy  beyond  description  in  calling  you  my 
son. w  Junot,  much  moved,  threw  himself  into  her  arms. 
<(  Well, w  said  he,  <(  and  what  will  you  think  of  me  now? 
—  that  I  am  very  childish  and  weak,  I  fear;**  and,  turn- 
ing to  my  brother,  he  embraced  him  several  times  in  a 
delirium  of  joy.  <(  But  now, w  said  he,  after  a  few 
moments,  (<  I  have  still  another  favor  to  ask  —  one  upon 
which  I  set  a  high  value,  for  it  is  most  interesting  to 
me." 

(( What  is  it  ?  w  asked  my  mother.  (<  I  desire,  extraordi- 
nary as  it  may  appear  to  you,  to  be  myself  permitted  to 
present  my  petition  to  your  daughter."  My  mother  ex- 
claimed against  this  demand ;  such  a  thing  had  never  been 
heard  of  —  it  was  absolute  folly.  (<  That  may  be,"  said 
Junot,  in  a  firm  but  respectful  tone;  <(but  I  have  deter- 
mined upon  it;  and  since  you  have  received  me,  since 
I  am  now  your  son,  why  would  you  refuse  me  this  favor  ? 
Besides,  it  is  in  your  presence  and  her  brother's  that  I 
would  speak  to  her."  (<  Ah,  that  makes  a  difference," 
said  my  mother ;  (<  but  why  this  whim  ? "  <(  It  is  not  a 
whim;  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  so  very  reasonable  an  idea 
that  I  should  never  have  believed  myself  capable  of  it. 
Do  you  consent  ?  " 

My  mother  answered  "Yes,"  and  a  messenger  was 
dispatched  to  my  study,  where  I  was  drawing  with  M. 
Vigliano,  to  summon  me  to  my  mother,  an  order  which 
I  obeyed  immediately  with  the  greatest  tranquillity,  for 
I  supposed  General  Junot  to  be  long  since  gone. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  my  sensations  when,  on 
opening  the  chamber  door,  I  perceived  General  Junot 
seated  by  my  mother's  bedside,  holding  one  of  her  hands, 
and  conversing  in  an  animated  manner  with  her.  The 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  261 

General  rose,  offered  me  his  place,  took  a  seat  beside 
me,  then,  having  looked  toward  my  mother,  said  to  me 
in  the  most  serious  tone: 

(<  Mademoiselle,  I  am  happy  enough  to  have  obtained 
the  consent  of  your  mother  and  brother  to  my  solicita- 
tion for  your  hand;  but  I  have  to  assure  you  that  this 
consent,  otherwise  so  valuable  to  me,  will  become  void 
unless  at  this  moment  you  can  declare  here  in  their 
presence  that  you  willingly  acquiesce  in  it.  The  step  I 
am  at  this  moment  taking  is  not  perhaps  altogether  con- 
sistent with  established  forms — I  am  aware  it  is  not; 
but  you  will  pardon  me  if  you  reflect  that  I  am  a  soldier, 
frank  even  to  roughness,  and  desirious  of  ascertaining 
that  in  the  most  important  act  of  my  life  I  am  not 
deceiving  myself.  Will  you,  then,  condescend  to  tell  me 
whether  you  will  become  my  wife,  and,  above  all,  whether 
you  can  do  so  without  any  repugnance  ? w 

Since  I  had  been  seated  in  the  chair  in  which  General 
Junot  had  placed  me,  I  felt  as  if  in  an  extraordinary 
dream.  I  heard  distinctly,  and  understood  what  was 
said,  but  no  part  of  it  seemed  to  affect  me;  and  yet  it 
was  necessary  to  give  an  immediate  answer  in  one 
word  upon  which  the  fate  of  my  whole  life  was  to  de- 
pend. 

The  most  perfect  silence  reigned  in  the  apartment. 
Neither  my  mother  nor  my  brother  could  with  propriety 
interfere,  and  the  General  could  only  wait  my  answer. 
However,  at  the  expiration  of  about  ten  minutes,  seeing 
that  my  eyes  still  continued  fixed  on  the  ground,  and 
that  I  did  not  reply,  General  Junot  thought  himself 
obliged  to  construe  my  silence  into  a  refusal,  and,  always 
impetuous,  still  more  so,  perhaps,  in  his  feelings  than  in 
his  will,  he  insisted  upon  knowing  his  fate  that  very 
instant. 

<(  I  see, w  said  he,  with  an  accent  of  bitterness,  <(  that 
Madame  de  Permon  was  right  when  she  told  me  that  her 
consent  was  nothing  in  this  affair.  Only,  Mademoiselle, 
I  entreat  you  to  give  me  an  answer,  be  it  YES  or  NO.  w 

My  brother,  who  saw  the  change  in  Junot's  manner, 
inclined  toward  me  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  <(  Take 
courage,  love,  speak  out;  he  will  not  be  offended,  even 
if  you  refuse  him. w  w  Come,  come,  my  child !  you  must 
answer  the  General,"  said  my  mother.  "If  you  will  not 


262  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

speak  to  him,  give  me  your  answer,  and  I  will  repeat  it 
to  him.* 

I  was  sensible  that  my  situation  began  to  be  ridiculous, 
and  that  I  ought  to  speak ;  but  all  the  power  upon  earth 
could  not  have  made  me  articulate  a  word  nor  raise  my 
eyes  from  the  carpet.  From  my  first  entrance  into  the 
room  my  emotion  had  been  so  violent  that  the  palpita- 
tion of  my  heart  threatened  to  burst  my  corset.  The 
blood  now  mounted  to  my  head  with  such  violence  that 
I  heard  nothing  but  a  sharp  singing  in  my  ears,  and  saw 
nothing  but  a  moving  rainbow.  I  felt  a  violent  pain, 
and,  raising  my  hand  to  my  forehead,  stood  up  and  made 
my  escape  so  suddenly  that  my  brother  had  not  time  to 
detain  me. 

He  ran  after  me,  but  could  nowhere  find  me.  The 
fact  was  that,  as  if  started  by  an  invisible  power,  I  had 
mounted  the  stairs  with  such  rapidity  that  in  two  seconds 
I  had  reached  the  top  of  the  house,  and,  on  recovering 
my  recollection,  found  myself  in  the  attic.  I  came  down 
again,  and,  going  to  take  refuge  in  my  brother's  apart- 
ments, met  him  returning  from  a  search  for  me. 

He  scolded  me  for  being  so  unreasonable.  I  wept,  and 
reproached  him  bitterly  for  the  scene  which  had  just 
taken  place.  He  excused  himself,  embraced  me,  and 
drew  me  into  a  conversation  which  calmed  my  spirits ;  but 
he  could  by  no  means  persuade  me  to  return  to  my 
mother's  room.  I  was  resolute  not  to  appear  there  again 
till  General  Junot  was  gone. 

My  brother  on  his  return  addressed  the  General, 
whom  he  found  still  much  agitated.  (<  I  was,"  said  he, 
<(  my  dear  General,  for  a  moment  of  your  opinion,  and 
permitted  my  sister  to  be  brought  here;  but  I  now  see 
that  we  have  acted  in  this  matter  like  children,  and  she, 
young  as  she  is,  has  convinced  me  of  it. w  (( Where  is 
my  poor  Loulou,  then, J)  said  my  mother ;  <(  I  told  you,  my 
dear  Junot,  that  such  a  step  was  absurd.  Where  is  she  ?" 
<(  In  my  room, B  said  Albert,  (<  where  I  have  promised  her 
that  she  shall  not  be  molested."  "And  my  answer, " 
said  Junot,  with  a  gloomy  air.  (<  Your  answer,  my  friend, 
is  as  favorable  as  you  can  desire.  My  sister  will  be 
proud  to  bear  your  name  —  I  repeat  her  own  words ;  as 
to  any  other  sentiment,  you  cannot  ask  it  of  her  without 
disrespect."  <(  I  am  satisfied!  "  exclaimed  Junot,  embracing 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  263 

my  brother.  *  She  will  be  proud  to  bear  my  name,  and 
I  am  content. " 

The  conversation  now  became  more  calm,  and  after  a 
short  interval  my  mother  said  to  Junot :  w  But  tell  me 
how  you  have  achieved  the  greatest  of  your  victories; 
how  you  have  induced  the  First  Consul  to  give  his  con- 
sent to  your  marriage  with  my  daughter  ?  *  ((  He  does 
not  know  it  yet,*  replied  Junot.  (<  He  does  not  know  it!  * 
exclaimed  my  mother ;  (<  you  are  come  to  ask  my  daughter 
in  marriage,  and  the  First  Consul  does  not  know  it  ? 
Permit  me  to  observe,  my  dear  General,  that  your  con- 
duct has  been  very  inconsiderate.  *  My  brother  has  since 
told  me  that  he  was  at  the  moment  of  my  mother's 
opinion.  <(  I  request  you,  madame,  to  inform  me  in  what 
respect  my  conduct  can  be  blamable,*  Junot  replied,  with 
some  hauteur. 

w  How  can  you  ask  such  a  question  ?  Do  you  not  know 
the  coldness,  and  even  disunion,  which  has  succeeded  to 
the  friendship  that  once  existed  between  the  First  Con- 
sul and  myself  ?  Do  you  think  that  he  will  consent  to 
my  daughter  becoming  your  wife,  and  especially  without 
fortune  ?  And  what,  let  me  ask,  would  you  do  if  when 
you  communicate  your  intended  marriage  to  him,  and 
ask  his  assent,  he  should  refuse  it  ? * 

w  I  should  marry  without  it, *  answered  Junot  very  res- 
olutely. (<  I  am  no  longer  a  child;  and  in  the  most  im- 
portant transaction  of  my  life  I  shall  consult  my  own 
convenience  only,  without  listening  to  the  petty  passions 
of  others.*  <(You  say  that  you  are  no  longer  a  child, 
and  you  reason  as  if  you  were  but  six  years  old.  Would 
you  dissolve  your  connection  with  your  benefactor  ancj 
friend  because  it  pleases  you  to  make  what  he  will  call 
an  imprudent  marriage  —  that  is  to  say,  a  marriage  with- 
out fortune?  For  that  is  the  reason  he  will  give  you; 
for  you  may  easily  suppose  he  will  not  tell  you  that  it  is 
because  he  does  not  like  me.  What  will  you  do,  what 
will  you  answer,  when  he  gives  you  the  option  between 
my  daughter  and  himself  ?  * 

H  But  he  will  never  do  so!*  exclaimed  Junot;  (<and  if 
he  could  to  such  an  extent  forget  my  services  and  my 
attachment,  I  should  always  remain  a  faithful  son  of 
France;  she  will  not  repulse  me;  and  I  am  a  general 
officer.  *  <(  And  do  you  think  us  capable  of  accepting 


264  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

such  a  sacrifice  ?*  said  my  mother.  C(And  though  my 
daughter  is  but  sixteen  years  old,  can  you  have  formed 
so  unworthy  an  opinion  of  her  as  to  suppose  she  would 
thus  abuse  her  power  over  you?  * 

<(  My  dear  General, *  said  Albert,  who  had  not  yet 
uttered  a  word  during  this  discussion,  (<  I  believe  that  all 
this  will  be  easily  arranged;  but  permit  me  to  observe, 
in  my  turn,  that  you  have  been  a  little  too  hasty  in  this 
affair;  nevertheless,  I  have  no  doubt  that  all  will  be 
right,  for  I  do  not  think  with  my  mother  that  the  First 
Consul  will  interfere  as  a  party,  and  still  less  as  a  judge, 
in  a  question  of  such  a  nature  as  this.  * 

Junot  listened  attentively;  then,  looking  at  his  watch, 
he  suddenly  took  up  his  hat,  and  said  to  my  mother :  <(  I 
am  going  to  the  Tuileries.  The  First  Consul  is  not  yet 
in  council.  I  will  speak  to  him,  and  in  an  hour  I  shall 
return.*  He  pressed  Albert's  hand,  kissed  my  mother's, 
descended  the  staircase  at  two  steps,  jumped  into  his 
carriage,  and  cried  out  to  the  coachman,  <(  To  the  Tuil- 
eries at  a  gallop,  only  do  not  overturn  us,  because  I 
have  important  business  there.* 

(<  Where  is  the  First  Consul  ?  *  was  his  salutation  to 
Duroc.  "With  Madame  Bonaparte.*  tf  My  friend,  I 
must  speak  to  him  this  very  instant. *  <(  How  agitated 
you  are !  *  said  Duroc,  observing  his  flushed  cheek  and 
trembling  voice.  (<  Is  there  alarming  news?*  (<  No,  no; 
but  I  must  see  the  First  Consul;  I  must  this  instant;  I 
will  tell  you  by  and  by  why  I  am  so  peremptory.* 

Duroc  pressed  his  hand,  and  as  he  understood  that  he 
could  oblige  him,  he  lost  no  time  in  acquitting  himself 
of  his  commission;  and  in  a  few  moments  Junot  was 
introduced  to  the  cabinet  of  the  First  Consul.  <(  My 
General,*  said  he,  entering  at  once  upon  the  subject, 
<(  you  have  testified  a  desire  to  see  me  married ;  the  thing 
is  settled  —  I  am  about  to  marry.*  ((Ah!  ah!  and  you 
have  run  away  with  your  wife  ?  Your  air  is  perfectly 
wild.*  <(  No,  my  General,*  replied  Junot,  endeavoring 
to  calm  his  feelings  for  the  crisis;  for  all  my  mother's 
objections  started  at  once  to  his  mind,  and  he  felt  fear- 
ful of  a  rebuff.  w  Whom  are  you  going  to  marry,  then  ?  * 
said  the  First  Consul,  seeing  that  Junot  did  not  speak. 
<(  A  person  whom  you  have  known  from  her  childhood, 
whom  you  iised  to  love,  my  General,  of  whom  everyone 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  265 

speaks  well,  and  with  whom  I  am  distractedly  in  love  — 
Mademoiselle  de  Permon.  * 

The  First  Consul,  contrary  to  his  custom,  was  not  at 
that  moment  walking  while  he  conversed.  He  was 
seated  at  his  desk,  which  he  was  notching  with  his 
penknife.  On  hearing  the  name,  he  leaped  from  his  seat, 
threw  away  his  penknife,  and  seized  Junot  by  the  arm, 
asking,  w  Whom  did  you  say  you  meant  to  marry  ? w 
(<  The  daughter  of  Madame  de  Permon,  that  child  whom 
you  have  so  often  held  upon  youi  knee  when  you  your- 
self were  young,  General. w  w  That  is  not  possible ;  Loulou 
is  not  marriageable ;  how  old  is  she  ?  w  w  Sixteen  years 
within  a  month.  *  (( It  is  a  very  bad  marriage  you  would 
make;  there  is  no  fortune;  and,  besides,  how  can  you 
determine  to  become  the  son-in-law  of  Madame  de  Per- 
mon ?  Do  you  not  know  that  woman  as  she  is  ? 

You  must  mind  what  you  are  about.    She  is  a  spirit " 

<(  Permit  me  to    observe,  General,  that  I  do    not  propose 

to  marry  my  mother-in-law ;  and,  moreover,  I  believe n 

Here  he  stopped  short  and  smiled.  (<  Well,  and  what  do 
you  believe  ? w  <c  That  the  discussions  which  had  arisen 
between  yourself  and  Madame  de  Permon  have  blended 
a  shade  of  prejudice  with  the  judgment  you  have  formed 
of  her.  What  I  know  perfectly  well  is,  that  she  is  sur- 
rounded by  numerous  friends  of  long  standing,  and  I 
have  seen  the  love  which  her  children  bear  her.  Her 
daughter  lavishes  such  care  upon  her  as  only  the  heart 
of  a  devoted  child  is  capable  of,  and  has  done  so  for 
two  years  past,  to  the  injury  of  her  own  health.  Her 

son w      <(  Ah,    that    is    a    brave    youth !  }>     (<  Well,    my 

General,  and  do  you  believe  that  he  could  be  what  he 
is  to  his  mother  if  Madame  de  Permon  were  not  herself 
not  merely  a  good  mother,  but  an  excellent  woman  ? 
Children  are  respectful  and  attentive  to  their  mother, 
but  to  be  to  her  what  Mademoiselle  Laurette  and  her 
brother  are  to  Madame  de  Permon,  she  must  deserve 
their  respect.  Ask  Madame  Bonaparte,  Madame  Joseph, 
Madame  Murat;  these  ladies  will  tell  you  how  meritori- 
ous has  been  the  conduct  of  Madame  de  Permon 's  chil- 
dren from  the  commencement  of  her  severe  illness. tt  "  Is 
she  so  very  ill,  then  ? M  inquired  the  First  Consul  with 
interest.  w  Very  ill ;  and  the  utmost  care  is  necessary  to 
her  recovery,  and  to  the  relief  of  her  sufferings." 


266  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

The  First  Consul  walked  the  room  without  speaking; 
he  was  serious,  but  not  out  of  humor.  At  length  he 
said,  (<  But  without  fortune,  I  suppose ;  what  portion  has 
this  young  person  ?  w  (<  I  have  not  inquired. w  (<  You  were 
right  in  saying  just  now  that  you  were  distractedly  in 
love.  What  extravagance!  Did  I  not  particularly  recom- 
mend you  to  seek  a  rich  wife  ?  for  you  are  not  rich 
yourself. w  (C  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  General,  I  am  very 
rich.  Are  you  not  my  protector,  my  father  ?  And  when  I 
inform  you  that  I  love  a  young  girl  who  is  poor,  but 
without  whom  I  should  be  miserable,  I  know  that  you 
will  come  to  my  assistance,  and  portion  my  betrothed. J) 

The  First  Consul  smiled.  (<  Oh,  is  that  it?  But  how 
has  this  illness  happened?  Have  you  long  been  a  visitor 
at  Madame  Permon's  ? J>  "  Eleven  days,  General;  but  it 
is  two  months  since  my  attention  has  been  attracted  to- 
ward her  daughter.  I  have  been  spoken  to  about  her, 
and  one  of  our  mutual  friends  wished  to  promote  this 
marriage;  but  Mademoiselle  Laurette  was  then  destined 
to  another  husband,  and  after  all  that  I  had  heard  of 
her,  I  would  not  visit  the  mother  lest  I  should  fall  in 
love  with  the  daughter.  In  the  interval,  the  projected 
marriage  was  broken  off.  I  went,  accordingly,  to  pay 
my  respects  to  Madame  de  Permon,  and  my  resolution 
was  soon  taken.  But  now,  sir,  I  am  about  to  give  you 
still  further  advantage  over  me  —  I  have  acted  more 
madly  than  you  can  imagine.*  Here  he  repeated  the 
scene  of  the  morning  in  its  minutest  details.  The  First 
Consul  listened  in  silence,  with  great  attention,  and 
when  Junot's  narrative  was  ended,  he  replied: 

(<  Though  I  recognize  in  all  that  you  have  just  said 
the  character  of  Madame  de  Permon,  I  cannot  but  ap- 
prove her  arguments  as  they  respect  me,  and  the  sacri- 
fice you  have  offered  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  Paladin  of 
the  Crusades  could  not  be  accepted  either  by  her  or 
Permon.  You  have,  however,  cut  me  off  from  the  power 
of  even  remonstrating  against  this  rash  act  by  the  con- 
fidence you  have  just  reposed  in  me;  besides,  you  will 
not,  as  you  say,  marry  your  mother-in-law,  and  if  the 
young  person  be  really  such  as  you  describe,  I  see  no 
reason  for  being  severe  on  the  article  of  fortune.  I  give 
you  100,000  francs  for  your  bride's  portion,  and  40,000 
for  her  wedding  clothes.  Adieu,  my  friend;  I  wish  you 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  267 

happiness!"  So  saying,  he  pressed  Junot's  hand  warmly, 
and  said,  laughing  as  he  resumed  his  seat,  w  Oh,  you 
will  have  a  terrible  mother-in-law !  "  then  added  with  a 
more  serious  air :  <(  But  an  amiable  and  worthy  brother- 
in-law.  M 


CHAPTER   XXXVI  I. 

Junot's  Haste  to  Conclude  Our  Marriage  —  Unwillingness  to  Quit  My 
Mother  —  A  Family  Scene —  Intrigues  to  Lead  Junot  to  Another  Mar- 
riage—  M.  de  Caulaincourt's  Confidential  Advice  —  My  Marriage 
Fixed  for  the  3oth  of  October  —  The  Marriage  of  Murat  and  Caroline 
Bonaparte  —  Her  Beauty  —  An  Error  Corrected — Causes  of  Napo- 
leon's Coolness  toward  Murat  —  His  Boasting,  and  an  Officer's  Break- 
fast—  The  Mistress  of  the  Revels  and  the  Betraying  Cipher  — 
Bonaparte's  Project  of  Marrying  His  Sister  to  Moreau  —  Calumnies 
on  Caroline  Bonaparte  —  Murat's  Person  and  Dress. 

THE  preparations  for  my  marriage  were  proceeding  with 
activity;  General  Junot  was  extremely  desirous  that 
it  should  take  place  immediately.  He  had  induced 
Madame  Bonaparte  the  mother  and  Madame  Leclerc  to 
persuade  my  mother,  and  the  aoth  of  October  was  the 
day  already  fixed  upon  before  I  had  been  consulted  upon 
the  subject.  It  was  on  the  loth  of  that  month  that  my 
mother  proposed  to  me  this  speedy  separation,  to  which 
no  arguments  she  could  use  had  any  effect  in  reconciling 
me.  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  an  old  and  faithful  friend  of 
the  family,  was  summoned  to  the  conference.  Seated 
between  my  brother  and  myself  beside  my  mother's  sofa, 
he  earnestly  enforced  my  mother's  plea  of  the  impatience 
of  my  lover,  and,  finding  this  insufficient,  began  to 
explain  that  to  his  knowledge  Junot  was  at  present  the 
object  of  much  intrigue  at  the  Tuileries;  that  Madame 
Bonaparte,  always  apprehensive  of  the  influence  which 
early  intimacy  and  a  sentiment  of  gratitude  for  early 
favors  might  give  my  mother  over  the  mind  of  the  First 
Consul,  had  seen  their  mutual  coldness  with  great  com- 
placency; had  never  attempted  to  widen  the  breach  by 
irritation,  judiciously  considering  that  in  such  cases  total 
oblivion  is  the  most  eligible  result,  and  was  now  extremely 
disconcerted  to  find  that  Junot's  marriage  was  likely  to 
bring  the  family  again  into  notice.  To  obviate  this,  she 


268  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

had  attempted  to  produce  a  change  in  "his  views,  and  to 
direct  them  toward  Mademoiselle  Leclerc.  To  this,  which 
was  equally  new  to  all  his  auditors,  he  added  that  delays 
are  dangerous,  that  the  First  Consul  might  be  induced 
by  the  influence  of  his  wife  to  withdraw  his  consent,  and 
that  Junot  himself  might  be  worked  to  her  purpose.  My 
mother's  pride  now  began  to  take  the  alarm,  and  her 
kind  friend  was  obliged  to  soothe  it  to  the  utmost;  and, 
finally,  the  result  of  all  this  consultation  was  that  I  gave 
my  consent  to  fix  the  day  for  the  3oth  of  October;  sooner 
than  this  I  positively  refused  to  quit  my  mother. 

My  own  marriage  has  so  much  occupied  my  attention 
that  I  have  neglected  to  mention  that  of  Madame  Murat, 
which  took  place  soon  after  the  8th  of  November.  Caro- 
line Bonaparte  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  fresh  as  a  rose; 
not  to  be  compared,  for  the  regular  beauty  of  her  features, 
to  Madame  Leclerc,  though  more  pleasing  perhaps  by 
the  expression  of  her  countenance  and  the  brilliance  of 
her  complexion,  but  by  no  means  possessing  the  perfection 
of  figure  which  distinguished  her  elder  sister.  Her  head 
was  disproportionately  large,  her  bust  was  too  short,  her 
shoulders  were  too  round,  and  her  hips  too  thick;  but 
her  feet,  her  hands,  and  her  arms  were  models,  and  her 
skin  resembled  white  satin  seen  through  pink  glass;  her 
teeth  were  fine,  as  were  those  of  all  the  Bonapartes; 
her  hair  was  light,  but  by  no  way  remarkable.  As  a  young 
girl  Caroline  was  charming ;  when  her  mother  first  brought 
her  to  Paris  in  1798  her  beauty  was  in  all  its  rosy  fresh- 
ness. I  have  never  seen  her  appear  to  so  much  advantage 
since  that  time.  Magnificence  did  not  become  her;  bro- 
cade did  not  hang  well  upon  her  figure,  and  one  feared 
to  see  her  delicate  complexion  fade  under  the  weight  of 
diamonds  and  rubies. 

In  the  <(  Memoir es  Contetnporaincs })  it  is  asserted  that 
when  Murat  demanded  Mademoiselle  Bonaparte  in  mar- 
riage, the  First  Consul  made  great  difficulties  in  giving 
his  consent.  This  is  part  of  the  plan  now  so  generally 
adopted  of  representing  Napoleon  and  his  family  in  an 
unfavorable  light.  But  here,  as  usual,  this  disposition  to 
accuse  throws  a  veil  over  the  truth.  Bonaparte's  repug- 
nance is  said  to  have  been  founded  on  the  ignoble  birth 
of  Murat.  I  can  affirm  with  certainty  that  the  author 
has  been  misinformed. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  269 

The  true  cause  of  Napoleon's  little  regard  for  Murat 
( for,  notwithstanding-  their  alliance,  he  never  was  attached 
to  him)  was  Murat's  imprudent  conduct  when  he  came 
to  Paris  to  present  the  banners  taken  by  the  army  of 
Italy,  and  after  his  return  to  headquarters.  Those  who 
know  the  character  of  Napoleon  as  I  know  it  will  easily 
understand  that  Murat  would  lose  much  ground  in  his 
General's  favor  by  whispering  a  boast  of  his  credit  with 
the  Directory  and  the  War  Ministry  through  the  means 
of  Madame  Bonaparte  and  Madame  Tallien.  I  will  here 
give  an  anecdote  which  occurred  soon  after  he  had  re- 
joined his  General,  and  which  reached  the  ears  of  the 
latter  on  the  very  day.  Junot  was  at  that  time  wounded 
and  in  his  bed,  and  could  not  have  been  the  informer 
upon  a  fact  of  which  he  was  himself  ignorant  for  some 
time. 

Murat  gave  a  breakfast  to  Lavalette,  some  other  officers 
of  the  general  staff,  and  many  of  his  friends,  chiefly 
young  men  belonging  to  the  cavalry,  whose  company 
Murat  preferred  to  associating  with  officers  of  his  own 
rank;  perhaps  from  that  habit  of  boasting,  for  which  he 
afterward  became  so  remarkable,  and  to  which  he 
would  find  his  inferiors  more  complaisant  than  his  equals. 

The  breakfast  had  been  very  gay.  Much  champagne 
had  been  drank,  and  there  seemed  nc  occasion  for  a  sup- 
plement, but  Murat  proposed  punch,  adding  that  he  would 
make  it  himself. 

<(  You  never  drank  better, w  said  he  to  his  companions ; 
<c  I  have  learned  to  make  it  from  a  charming  Creole,  and 
if  I  could  add  all  the  circumstances  of  that  education, 
you  would  like  it  still  better. w  Then  ringing  for  his 
valet,  he  ordered  not  only  all  that  was  necessary  for 
ordinary  punch,  but  a  number  of  accessories,  such  as  tea, 
oranges  instead  of  lemons,  etc.,  and  said  aloud:  (<  And  be 
sure  not  to  make  a  mistake;  bring  that  Jamaica  rum 
which  was  given  me  at  Paris.0 

He  went  to  his  traveling  case  and  took  from  it  a 
beautiful  utensil  of  silver  gilt,  made  purposely  to  extract 
the  juice  of  lemons  or  oranges  without  squeezing  them 
with  the  hand.  He  then  proceeded  in  the  whole  affair 
in  a  method  which  proved  that  he  had  been  under  a 
good  instructor.  The  punch  was  found  excellent,  so 
excellent  that  the  bowl  was  emptied  and  filled  again 


270  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

several  times;  confidence  increased  with  each  renewal; 
the  guests  wished  to  know  how  such  good  things  were 
to  be  learned,  and  Murat,  who  perhaps  was  not  quite 
clear-headed,  replied  that  the  finest  and  prettiest  woman 
in  Paris  had  taught  him  this  and  many  other  things. 

Then,  as  may  be  supposed,  questions  multiplied;  with 
the  mirth  and  folly  of  childhood,  they  desired  to  hear  the 
whole  history.  It  appears  Murat  could  not  resist,  but 
related  much  that  was  unsuitable  to  the  breakfast  table 
of  a  party  of  hussar  officers.  But  the  most  unlucky  part 
of  the  affair  in  its  consequences  was  that,  without  pro- 
nouncing any  name,  he  indicated  so  plainly  the  personages 
concerned  that  inductions  were  speedily  drawn  and  com- 
mentaries followed.  A  breakfast,  a  dinner,  and  a  supper, 
all  in  the  same  day,  in  the  country,  that  is  to  say,  the 
Champs  Elys6es,  formed  the  principal  facts  of  this 
boastful  tale,  and  the  finest  woman  in  Paris  (the  prettiest 
was  not  quite  so  clear),  all  this  told  the  name,  and  these 
young  heads  translated  it  with  much  more  ease  than  at 
that  moment  they  could  have  construed  a  line  of  Virgil. 

Further  explanation  was  unnecessary;  when  one  of  the 
party,  taking  up  the  lemon  squeezer,  discovered  in  his 
examination  of  it  that  it  had  a  cipher  upon  the  handle 
which  was  not  that  of  Murat.  "Ah,"  exclaimed  the 
young  madcap,  <(now  for  full  information;  here  we  may 
learn  to  read  as  well  as  to  make  punch ;  w  and,  brandishing 
the  little  utensil  which  Murat,  who  retained  sense  enough 
to  see  that  this  was  going  too  far,  wished  to  snatch 
from  him,  he  looked  again  at  the  handle,  and  began, 
<(  Ba,  be,  bi,  bo;  Bo, — bon, — bona!"  Murat  at  length 
succeeded  in  quieting  him,  and,  the  breakfast  finished, 
the  chief  of  the  guests  forgot  the  particulars  of  the 
morning's  entertainment.  But  two  or  three,  who  felt 
that  they  might  speak  without  indiscretion,  since  nothing 
had  been  confided  to  them,  repeated  the  whole  history 
of  the  punch;  on  a  theater  so  fraught  with  wonders  as 
Italy  was  at  that  moment,  the  tale  made  little  impression 
generally,  but  all  the  circumstances  of  the  bacchanalian 
scene  reached  the  ears  of  the  General.  His  jealous  humor 
was  awakened,  and  for  a  moment  he  proposed  requiring 
an  explanation  from  Murat,  but  reflection  showed  him 
how  unwise  such  a  proceeding  would  be,  and  he 
abandoned  all  thoughts  of  inquiring  into  the  true  cir- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABR ANTES  271 

cumstances  of  the  case;  whether  they  ever  came  to  his 
knowledge  I  know  not. 

The  silver  lemon  squeezer  disappeared.  Murat  pro- 
fessed to  regret  its  loss  extremely,  and  reported  that 
some  of  his  giddy  companions  had  thrown  it  out  of  the 
window  in  sport,  and  that  it  had  never  been  recovered. 
He  averred  also  that  the  young  man  who  pretended  to 
have  read  the  cipher  had  his  eyes  so  dazzled  by  the 
fumes  of  the  punch  that  he  had,  in  fact,  mistaken  M 
for  B,  and  that  the  letter  J  stood  for  his  own  name 
(Joachim). 

This  scandal  was  talked  of  for  twenty-four  hours,  but 
offered  only  vague  conjectures  to  those  who  were  but 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  parties  concerned,  which 
was  the  case  with  almost  all  the  guests  except  Lavalette 
and  Duroc,  who  thought  it  advisable  not  to  take  further 
notice  of  it,  and  thought,  indeed,  that  the  cipher  might 
have  been  J.  M.  For  my  own  part,  I  believe  so  too;  but 
General  Bonaparte,  I  have  reason  to  think,  was  not  so 
credulous ;  and  the  favor  shown  Murat  on  occasion  of  the 
expedition  to  Egypt  —  a  favor  which  certainly  his  Gen- 
eral had  not  solicited  for  him  —  seemed  to  confirm  his 
impolitic  boasting,  and  to  indicate  that  his  interest  with 
the  Directory  was  supported  by  a  protector  who  could 
not  please  Napoleon.  With  respect  to  the  fact  itself,  I 
apprehend  that  there  was  more  of  levity  in  it  on  Murat's 
part  than  of  reality.  I  have  known  the  opinion  of  mem- 
bers of  the  family  respecting  it,  who  perhaps  saw  things 
in  their  worst  light  from  being  in  a  degree  inimical  to 
Josephine.  They  excused  Murat  on  account  of  his  youth, 
but  were  not  so  indulgent  toward  Madame  Bonaparte. 

Junot,  whom  the  *•  Memoir es  Contemporaines*  I  know 
not  why,  make  to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  Murat  and 
Napoleon,  did  not  believe  that  the  General  had  any  cause 
for  his  jealousy  of  Murat,  for  jealous  he  certainly  was; 
and  it  is  the  same  with  respect  to  another  person  of 
whom  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak,  and  toward  whom 
General  Bonaparte's  ill-will  also  took  its  rise  in  Italy. 

When,  therefore,  Murat  requested  the  hand  of  Caro- 
line Bonaparte,  the  First  Consul  was  very  much  disposed 
to  refuse  it,  but  not  on  account  of  the  obscurity  of  his 
birth.  It  is  absurd  to  make  him  think  and  act  in  that 
manner  at  this  epoch.  Murat  was  in  love  with  Made- 


272  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

moiselle  Bonaparte ;  but  in  those  days  of  our  glory  there 
were  twenty  young  generals  round  Napoleon  who  were 
at  least  his  equals,  and  whose  fame  was  at  that  period 
even  greater  than  his.  The  First  Consul,  on  his  return 
from  Egypt,  had  a  project  for  marrying  his  sister  to 
Moreau:  this  may  give  the  scale  of  qualification  he 
required  in  his  brother-in-law  —  much  distinction  from 
glory,  and  none  from  birth.  I  know  also,  for  the  First 
Consul  has  himself  told  me  so,  that  he  once  had  an  idea 
of  giving  his  sister  to  Augereau. 

Caroline  Bonaparte,  also,  was  passionately  in  love  with 
Murat.  But  this  love  did  not  take  its  rise  from  Joseph's 
embassy  to  Rome;  Caroline  was  at  that  time,  at  the 
most,  from  eleven  to  twelve  years  of  age.  I  do  not 
even  believe  that  Murat  ever  saw  her  at  Rome.  If  this 
love  really  were  anterior  to  his  return  from  Egypt,  it 
must  be  dated  from  their  meeting  at  the  Serbelloni  Pal- 
ace at  Milan.  At  any  rate  I  can  assert  that  nothing  had 
occurred  to  render  this  marriage  desirable  to  the  Bona- 
parte family,  as  the  <(  Memoir es  Contemporaines*  have 
said.  Caroline  Bonaparte  married  with  a  reputation  as 
pure  and  as  fresh  as  her  complexion  and  the  roses  of 
her  cheeks.  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  partiality 
toward  her;  but  I  must  be  just  and  speak  the  truth.  I 
can  do  so  with  the  more  certainty  as,  at  the  epoch  of 
her  marriage,  and  during  some  preceding  years,  the  con- 
nection between  us  was  very  intimate. 

Murat's  good  looks  and  the  nobleness  of  his  figure  is  a 
matter  which  will  bear  discussion.  I  do  not  admit  that 
a  man  is  handsome  because  he  is  large  and  always 
dressed  for  a  carnival.  Murat's  features  were  not  good, 
and  I  may  even  add  that,  considering  him  as  detached 
from  his  curled  hair,  his  plumes,  and  his  embroidery,  he 
was  plain.  There  was  something  of  the  negro  in  his 
countenance,  though  his  nose  was  not  flat ;  but  very  thick 
lips,  and  a  nose  which,  though  aquiline,  had  nothing  of 
nobleness  in  its  form,  gave  to  his  physiognomy  a  mon- 
grel expression  at  least.  I  shall  speak  again  of  his  per- 
son and  of  his  talents. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  273 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

Satisfaction  Caused  by  My  Marriage  in  the  Bonaparte  Family  —  Ma- 
dame Bonaparte  Jealous  of  My  Mother  —  My  Mother's  Sufferings, 
and  Preparations  for  My  Marriage  —  Details  Respecting  the  Family 
of  Junot — His  Elder  Brother  in  Egypt — Imperious  Will  of  Bona- 
parte—  His  Refusal  of  a  Passport  to  Junot's  Brother  —  Junot's  Brother 
Taken  Prisoner  by  the  English  —  His  Return,  and  the  Melancholy 
Death  of  His  Son  —  Remarkable  Circumstances  Attending  the  Child's 
Death  —  Its  Extraordinary  Attachment  to  Its  Father  —  The  Event 
Related  to  the  First  Consul  —  Conversation  between  Bonaparte  and 
Corvisart  upon  the  Subject. 

MADAME  BONAPARTE  the  mother  was  delighted  with 
Junot's  choice,  and  Lucien,  Louis,  and  Joseph  Bona- 
parte, Madame  Leclerc,  and  Madame  Bacciochi, 
rejoiced  in  the  alliance  from  personal  motives;  they  con- 
sidered it  a  sort  of  victory  gained  over  the  younger  Ma- 
dame Bonaparte.  The  latter,  from  the  reasons  of  jealousy 
mentioned  before,  and  which  she  had  sense  enough  never 
to  avow,  though  everyone  in  the  palace  was  satisfied 
that  a  tacit  hostility  existed  between  my  mother  and  her, 
had  labored  zealously  to  prevent  it;  and,  knowing  that 
my  mother  was  well  aware  of  this,  was  herself  the  first 
person  to  speak  to  me  of  it  after  my  marriage.  Her 
jealousy  was,  however,  unfounded;  at  this  period  Napo- 
leon was  much  attached  to  Josephine,  and  she  might,  if 
she  pleased,  have  acquired  a  great  influence  over  him; 
this  she  never  possessed,  as  I  shall  often  have  occasion 
to  show. 

The  3oth  of  October  approached,  and  our  domicile  usu- 
ally so  peaceful  though  cheerful,  and  especially  regular 
in  the  hours  and  manner  of  living,  was  now  entirely 
transformed.  My  poor  mother  concealed  her  sufferings, 
and  told  me  that  she  had  never  been  better.  She  fre- 
quently went  out  to  make  purchases  which  she  would 
trust  to  no  one  else,  and  which  her  taste  certainly  en- 
abled her  to  choose  better  than  any  other  person  would 
have  done,  but  which  I  should  have  declined  if  I  had 
believed  them  to  have  caused  her  the  smallest  pain.  All 
that  I  could  say  on  the  subject  would,  however,  have 
been  wholly  unavailing ;  and  my  brother  and  I  had  agreed 
is 


274  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

that  it  was  better  not  to  contradict  her.  All,  therefore, 
proceeded  rapidly.  The  day  when  I  was  to  quit  my 
mother  drew  very  near,  and  I  may  safely  say,  brilliant 
as  was  the  situation  it  promised  me,  I  saw  its  approach 
with  terror. 

Junot's  family,  to  whom  he  was  religiously  attached, 
consisted  of  a  father  and  mother,  both  in  perfect  health, 
and  without  any  infirmity,  the  father  at  this  time  about 
sixty  years  of  age,  and  the  mother  something  older;  an 
elder  brother  married,  two  uncles,  and  two  sisters,  both 
married  —  the  younger  to  a  landed  proprietor  named 
Maldan,  and  the  elder,  against  the  wishes  of  her  parents, 
to  a  cousin-german ;  and,  as  generally  happens  with  mar- 
riages not  sanctioned  by  the  parental  blessing,  this 
turned  out  ill  —  they  had  many  children  and  were  un- 
happy. 

As  soon  as  Junot's  marriage  was  fixed  he  sent  his 
brother  into  Burgundy  to  fetch  his  father  and  mother 
and  his  wife.  M.  Junot,  the  elder  brother,  was  not  only 
a  respectful  son,  an  affectionate  brother,  a  tender  hus- 
band and  father,  but  he  was  also  a  man  of  unimpeach- 
able honor,  and  of  the  severest  probity.  Bonaparte,  who 
knew  his  worth,  was  bent  upon  taking  him  on  his  expe- 
dition to  Egypt;  and  when  Junot  obtained  leave  to  visit 
his  family  before  he  set  out,  he  was  expressly  com- 
manded to  bring  his  brother  back  with  him. 

Fraternal  affection,  and  the  great  prospect  held  out  to 
him,  wrung  from  him  an  unwilling  assent.  He  took 
leave  of  a  beloved  wife  and  an  idolized  infant,  his  only 
child,  a  boy  two  years  and  a  half  old,  from  whom  he 
had  yet  scarcely  been  separated  for  an  hour,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  his  brother  to  Toulon.  Here,  however,  he 
completely  repented,  and,  too  late,  endeavored  to  obtain 
his  dismissal.  Bonaparte  had  appointed  him  to  a  con- 
fidential situation  on  his  civil  staff,  and  had  too  much 
esteem  for  his  probity  to  permit  him  to  recede.  In 
despair  he  embarked  on  board  <(  L' Orient**  —in  despair 
he  reached  Egypt;  and  though  he  never  neglected  his 
duties,  he  never  ceased  importunately  to  demand  his 
dismissal.  But  the  General  was  not  to  be  moved;  and 
it  was  not  till  after  the  departure  of  Bonaparte  him- 
self that  my  homesick  brother-in-law  obtained  leave  to 
return  to  Europe. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTfeS  275 

Further  troubles  awaited  him:  the  vessel  in  which  he 
sailed  was  taken  by  the  English,  and  he  was,  after  an 
imprisonment  of  some  months  at  Mahon,  landed  at  length 
on  the  coast  of  France,  with  the  loss  of  all  the  property 
he  had  with  him.  Rejoicing  in  the  thought  of  reposing 
at  last  under  his  own  roof,  he  reached  it  to  learn  that 
the  son  he  adored  was  no  more.  The  affecting  manner 
of  his  boy's  death  was  not  made  known  to  him  till  his 
wife  had  given  birth  to  another  child;  but  he  never 
ceased  to  feel  for  this  one  a  sentiment  of  greater  ten- 
derness than  any  of  his  other  children  inspired. 

The  cause  of  this  infant's  death,  extraordinary  as  it 
may  seem,  was  the  ardor  of  his  attachment  to  his  father. 
He  bade  him  adieu,  and  had  seen  him  depart;  but  when 
he  found  that  he  did  not  speedily  return,  his  grief,  at 
first  moderate,  became  ungovernable;  for  some  days  he 
cried  without  cessation,  perpetually  inquiring  where  was 
his  father.  At  length  his  useless  tears  were  intermitted, 
but  his  sighs,  his  pallid  cheeks,  and  constant  recurrence 
to  the  subject  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  showed  that 
his  grief  was  not  abated. 

His  mother,  observing  with  the  acutness  peculiar  to  a 
mother's  love  that  the  indefinite  idea  produced  by  the 
uniform  answer  to  his  question  that  his  father  was  gone 
away  only  increased  his  distress,  at  last  replied  that  he 
was  at  Bussy,  a  small  estate  the  family  possessed  a  few 
miles  from  Dijon.  <(  Then  let  us  goto  Bussy,  °  said  the 
child,  with  the  first  expression  of  joy  he  had  shown  since 
his  afflicting  loss.  The  family  made  a  rule  of  indulging 
all  his  wishes,  and  affording  every  diversion  that  could 
be  supposed  to  alleviate  his  sorrow,  and  a  journey  to 
Bussy  was  undertaken ;  but  the  disappointment  here  ex- 
perienced added  to  the  malady  which  had  now  taken  deep 
hold  upon  him ;  in  turn,  a  removal  to  the  houses  of  all 
his  relations  was  tried,  but  in  vain ;  at  the  end  of  a 
twelvemonth  this  extraordinary  infant,  who  at  the  time 
of  his  father's  departure  was  one  of  the  finest,  most 
healthy,  and  animated  of  children,  expired  with  his 
father's  name  upon  his  lips. 

This  was  related  to  me  a  few  weeks  after  my  marriage ; 
and  it  happened  that  some  anecdotes  of  extraordinary 
children  formed  the  subject  of  conversation  at  Malmaison 
one  evening  about  that  time,  and  I  related  this  one,  then 


276  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

fresh  in  my  mind.  The  First  Consul,  who  usually  did 
not  enter  at  all  into  such  subjects,  paid  great  attention 
to  what  I  was  saying,  and,  when  I  had  done,  asked  me 
whether  I  had  not  abused  my  privilege  of  historian,  and 
had  not,  of  a  very  simple  fact,  created  a  romance,  the 
hero  of  which  was  a  child  thirty  months  old. 

(<  I  can  assure  you,w  I  replied,  (<that  far  from  having 
added  to  the  affecting  parts  of  my  little  history,  I  have 
curtailed  them;  and  if  you  heard  the  same  tale  related 
by  my  worthy  mother-in-law,  who  nursed  the  poor  babe 
through  the  whole  of  its  long  agony,  you  would  find 
mine  very  cold  in  comparison.  * 

The  First  Consul  paced  to  and  fro  for  some  time  with- 
out saying  a  word.  This  is  known  to  have  been  his 
habit  when  deep  in  thought.  Suddenly  he  raised  his 
head,  and  looking  around  him,  asked  for  Corvisart,  who 
soon  appeared.  tt  Corvisart, w  said  the  First  Consul,  <(  is 
it  possible  that  a  child  should  die  of  grief  in  consequence 
of  no  longer  seeing  some  one  it  loves  —  its  nurse  for 
example  ? w 

<(I  believe  not,w  said  Corvisart.  "At  the  same  time 
nothing  is  impossible;  but  nothing  can  be  more  rare 
than  such  a  case,  happily,  or  else  what  would  become  of 
us  ?  We  could  not  wean  a  child. w 

The  First  Consul  looked  at  me  triumphantly,  and  said, 
<(  I  was  sure  of  it. w  To  this  I  said  that  I  thought  Dr. 
Corvisart  had  been  unfairly  interrogated,  and  that  I 
begged  permission  to  put  the  question  to  him  in  its  true 
shape.  I  then,  in  a  few  words,  repeated  the  history  of 
my  little  nephew;  and  scarcely  had  he  heard  me  out  than 
he  exclaimed,  (<  That  is  quite  another  case ; J>  that  a  nurse 
was  replaced  by  a  governess,  who  lavished  the  same 
cares  upon  the  child,  and  gave  it  food  at  the  hours  it 
had  been  accustomed  to ;  but  that  affection  distressed  by 
absence,  as  that  of  my  nephew  had  been,  might  cause 
death,  and  that  the  case  was  not  even  of  very  rare  oc- 
currence. (<  I  have  in  my  portfolios, w  said  this  very 
skillful  man,  <(  a  multitude  of  notices  relative  to  the 
affections  of  children,  and  if  you  should  read  them,  Gen- 
eral, you  would  find  not  only  that  the  germs  of  the  pas- 
sions exist  in  their  young  hearts,  but  that  in  some 
children  these  passions  are  developed  in  an  alarming 
manner.  Jealousy,  as  well  as  poison,  will  kill  children 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANT&S  277 

of  three  years  of  age,  and  even  younger. w  <(  You  think 
then,  that  this  little  Junot  died  of  grief  from  ceasing  to 
see  his  father  ? w  asked  the  First  Consul. 

u  After  what  Madame  Junot  has  just  related,  I  cannot 
doubt  it;  and  my  conviction  is  confirmed  by  her  having, 
without  being  aware  of  it,  described  all  the  symptoms  of 
that  malady  of  which  only  beings  endowed  with  the  most 
exquisite  sensibility  are  susceptible.  The  child  is  happy 
in  its  early  death,  for  he  would  have  been  to  be  pitied 
throughout  his  existence,  and  would  have  met  with  a  per- 
petual succession  of  disappointments." 

The  First  Consul  rubbed  his  forehead  frequently  while 
Corvisart  was  speaking.  It  was  evident  that  his  repeated 
refusals  to  permit  my  brother-in-law's  return  to  Europe 
were  agitating  his  mind,  and  I  am  sure  that,  had  the 
light  been  directed  to  his  eyes,  I  should  have  seen  them 
moist. 

(<  Is  Junot,  your  brother-in-law,  still  in  Paris  ? }>  said  he. 
*  Yes,  General. })  (<  Will  you  tell  him  that  I  wish  to  see 
him?  Is  Junot  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  his  nephew's 
death?  w  (<  I  believe  not,  General,  for  my  brother-in-law 
has  himself  only  learned  it  since  his  wife's  accouchement.'1* 

He  again  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead,  and  shook 
his  head  with  the  air  of  a  person  who  would  drive  away 
a  painful  thought;  but  he  never  permitted  it  to  be  sup- 
posed that  he  was  long  under  the  influence  of  any  pre- 
dominating emotion;  he  walked  again  the  length  of  the 
room,  and  then,  placing  himself  directly  in  front  of 
Corvisart,  said  to  him  with  comic  abruptness :  w  Corvisart, 
would  it  be  better  that  there  should  be  doctors,  or  that 
there  should  be  none?  w  The  modern  Hippocrates  replied 
to  the  malicious  glance  which  accompanied  the  question 
by  one  of  equal  meaning,  then  parried  the  attack  with  a 
jest,  and  added,  (<  If  you  wish  me  to  speak  conscientiously, 
General,  I  believe  that  it  would  be  as  well  if  there  were 
not  any. w  We  all  laughed,  when  Corvisart  continued,  and 
added:  (<  But  then  there  must  be  no  OLD  WOMEN." 


278  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

Thoughtless  Observation  of  My  Mother  to  Junot  Respecting  Nobility, 
and  Its  Prompt  Correction  —  Intrigues  to  Break  off  Junot' s  Marriage 
—  Great  Number  of  Emigrants  in  Paris — A  Young  Girl  Seeks 
Fouche — Affecting  Scene,  and  Fouche' s  Sang-froid  —  Fouche  Com- 
passionate!— The  Marquis  des  Rosieres  and  His  Daughter  —  The  An- 
cient Lieutenant  of  the  King,  and  Escapades  of  Fouche — The 
Emigrants  Do  Justice  to  the  Glory  of  Our  Arms  —  The  Due  de 
Mouchy.  M.  de  Montcalm,  the  Prince  de  Chalais,  MM.  de  1'Aigle, 
and  M.  Archambaud  de  Perigord  —  Rudeness  of  the  Marquis  d'Haute- 
fort  —  Text  of  a  Curious  Letter,  Addressed  by  Berthier  to  Junot 
from  Madrid  during  an  Embassy  —  The  Passages  Omitted  —  Ber- 
thier and  the  Gift  of  Tongues  —  Amusing  Adventure  of  Berthier  at 
Milan  —  The  Tailor  and  the  Landlady. 

To  MANY  of  our  friends  my  engagement  was  unwel- 
come, and  some  of  our  noble  relatives  reminded 
my  mother  that  though  my  father  had  been  of  ple- 
beian origin  she  was  not,  and  that  she  was  wanting  in 
respect  to  herself  in  bestowing  her  daughter  upon  an  up- 
start General  of  the  Revolution.  My  mother  unadvisedly 
repeated  these  observations  to  General  Junot,  to  whom 
it  may  be  supposed  they  were  not  very  acceptable;  my 
mother,  observing  this,  rectified  the  error  with  her  char- 
acteristic grace.  <(  And  why,"  she  continued,  "should 
this  offend  you  ?  Do  you  think  me  capable  of  being 
affected  by  such  opinions  ?  Do  you  imagine  that  I  regret 
having  given  you  my  child  —  having  named  you  my  son, 
and  the  brother  of  my  Albert  ?  No,  my  dear  Junot  M  ( and 
she  cordially  pressed  his  hand  as  she  said  it ) ;  <(  we  are 
now  united  for  life  and  death!  * 

Junot  has  since  told  me  that  this  explanation  given  by 
my  mother  had  produced  a  very  good  effect  on  him. 
For  some  days  past  he  had  been  disturbed  by  reports 
that  my  family  were  desirous  of  breaking  off  the  match, 
and  that,  another  more  eligible  having  offered,  my  dis- 
inclination toward  him  would  be  made  the  pretense  for  dis- 
missing him.  Another  marriage  was  also  strongly  pressed 
upon  him,  but  Junot  was  too  much  engaged  in  honor 
and  in  heart  to  recede;  and  these  attempts  had  no  re- 
sult, unless  it  were  that  of  impressing  me  with  a  slight 
degree  of  hostility  against  a  personage  who  had  thus 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  279 

intrigued  to  exclude  me  from  a  society  in  which  I  was  en- 
titled, from  various  reasons,  to  hold  a  leading  rank. 

The  Emigrants  were  now  returning  in  crowds:  La 
Vende"e  was  settling  peaceably;  many  persons  connected 
with  the  nobility  were  repairing  to  Paris  as  a  more  secure 
asylum  than  the  provinces.  Fouche",  the  Minister  of 
Police,  on  whom  their  fate  so  much  depended,  was  wicked 
only  in  circumstances  which  had  immediate  reference  to 
himself;  otherwise  he  was  capable  of  good  actions,  of 
which  the  following  is  an  example:  In  the  month  of 
September,  1800,  Fouche"  was  told  that  a  young  woman, 
indifferently  dressed,  but  very  pretty,  frequently  asked  for 
a  private  audience  with  him,  but  without  claiming  any 
acquaintance  or  making  use  of  any  name  to  obtain  the  in- 
troduction, while  she  persisted  in  refusing  to  state  her 
own  name  or  residence.  Fouche,  who  at  this  time  had 
too  many  affairs  of  importance  upon  his  hands  to  be  able 
to  spare  any  attention  to  one  which  offered  only  an  ap- 
pearance of  gallantry,  took  no  notice  of  this.  The  young 
girl,  however,  continued  to  besiege  his  door,  notwithstand- 
ing the  insults  of  the  domestics,  always  so  plentifully 
lavished  upon  misfortune,  till  at  length  the  first  valet, 
taking  pity  upon  her,  approached  and  inquired  why  she 
did  not  write  to  the  Citizen  Minister.  w  You  might," 
said  he,  <(  by  that  means  obtain  an  audience,  which,  I 
believe,  is  what  you  want,  is  it  not  ?  * 

The  young  woman  said  it  was,  but  that  her  name  was 
unknown  to  the  Minister,  who  would  therefore  probably 
refuse  her  request.  The  poor  child  wept  as  she  pro- 
nounced the  last  words;  the  valet  looked  at  her  and 
pondered.  Whether  his  thoughts  were  what  they  should 
be  I  do  not  pretend  to  say,  but  his  resolution  was  quickly 
taken.  He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  found  it  was  not  yet 
eleven  o'clock,  and  that,  consequently,  his  master  would 
not  have  finished  his  breakfast.  <(  Wait  a  few  minutes, w 
said  he  to  the  young  girl ;  (<  but  tell  me,  do  you  live  far 
off  ?  "  <(  Yes ;  very,  very  far.  *  The  valet,  who  was  now 
examining  her  faded  black  dress,  said  to  himself,  <(  But 
how  the  devil  am  I  to  take  her  in,  equipped  in  that 
fashion  ? w  His  eyes,  raised  to  inspect  her  bonnet,  at  that 
moment  fell  upon  a  most  lovely  countenance,  and  he  added: 
<(  Bah !  I  should  be  very  absurd  to  trouble  myself  about 
her  dress;  wait  for  me,  my  child. w 


280  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

tt  Citizen  Minister, "  said  he,  as  he  entered  the  private 
cabinet  where  his  master  was  breakfasting,  and  at  the 
same  time  pursuing-  his  business,  (<  there  is  without  a 
young  girl,  who  for  this  month  past  has  come  daily  to 
speak  to  you;  she  weeps  and  pretends  that  her  business 
concerns  life  and  death;  she  seems  very  much  distressed. 
Shall  I  bring  her  in!*  (<  Hum?  *  said  Fouche;  <(  another 
of  the  intrigues  of  those  women  who  solicit  the  pardon 
of  their  brothers  and  cousins  without  ever  having  had 
either  father  or  mother.  How  old  is  this  one?"  (( About 
eighteen,  Citizen  Minister.* 

<{  It  is  as  I  guess,  then.  And  thou,  honest  fellow,  hast 
taken  charge  of  her  introduction  ?  But  I  am  armed  at 
all  points.  Bring  the  nymph  in,  and  let  her  look  to  it 
if  she  have  not  her  patent. "  * 

The  valet  introduced  his  protegt.  On  seeing  her, 
Fouche"  betrayed,  by  a  movement  of  surprise,  the  effect 
which  her  really  distinguished  manner,  compared  with 
her  wornout  apparel,  made  on  him.  A  sign  from  the 
Minister  sent  away  the  valet.  (<  What  do  you  want  with 
me,  my  girl  ?  "  he  said  to  his  young  visitor.  She  threw 
herself  on  her  knees  before  him,  and  joining  her  hands, 
<(  I  am  come,"  said  she,  sobbing,  (<  to  beg  for  the  life  of 
my  father."  Fouche  started  as  if  a  serpent  had  crossed 
his  path,  in  hearing  a  petition  for  human  life  proceed 
from  such  lips.  (<  And  who  is  your  father  ? "  said  he ; 
(c  what  is  his  name  ?  "  (<  Ah,  you  will  kill  him !  "  she  cried, 
in  a  voice  trembling  with  terror,  as  she  perceived  Fouche's 
sallow  complexion  take  a  still  more  vivid  tint  and  his 
white  lips  contract;  <(  you  will  kill  him!"  (<  Peace,  simple- 
ton! Tell  me  the  name  of  your  father.  How  came  he 
to  be  in  Paris,  if  he  be  in  fear  for  his  life  ? " 

The  young  lady  then  related  their  history;  it  was 
short  and  affecting.  Her  father,  the  Marquis  des  Ros- 
ieres,  after  having  been  several  times  made  prisoner  in 
La  Vendee,  was  taken  at  last  with  arms  in  his  hands, 
and  had  escaped  by  a  miracle ;  but  closely  pursued,  almost 
tracked,  he  had  at  length  arrived  at  Paris  as  the  safest 
place  of  refuge.  His  daughter  was  to  have  rejoined  him 

*  Fouche,  who,  as  all  the  world  knows,  was  a  moral  man,  one  day 
had  all  the  female  frequenters  of  the  Palais  Royal  and  similar  resorts 
taken  up,  that  he  might  compel  them  to  take  out  a  patent.  He  chose 
to  have  order  even  in  disorder. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANT&S  281 

with  her  mother,  and  a  young  sister  about  twelve  years 
of  age.  "But,*  continued  she,  "I  lost  my  mother  and 
sister,  and  arrived  here  alone.*  "How  did  both  die  so 
suddenly?*  asked  Fouche*.  "The  Blues  killed  them,1* 
said  she  in  a  low  voice,  casting  down  her  eyes:  for  she 
feared  Fouche"  would  impute  it  to  her  as  a  crime  to  de- 
nounce that  of  the  Republican  soldiers. 

(<  Where  do  you  lodge  ?  *  said  the  Minister  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence.  Mademoislle  des  Rosieres  appeared  to 
hesitate.  "Very  well,*  said  Fouche",  stamping  his  foot, 
"  you  will  not  tell  me  where  you  live  ?  If  you  do  not 
tell  me  with  a  good  grace,  my  people  will  know  where 
to  find  you  two  hours  hence,  or  sooner.*  Incapable  of 
resistance,  Mademoiselle  des  Rosieres  again  fell  upon  her 
knees,  extending  her  hands  to  him.  "Come,  be  quiet; 
let  us  have  no  tragedy — I  do  not  like  it;  only  tell  me  if 
I  may  count  upon  your  father.  If  I  obtain  his  pardon, 
can  I  depend  upon  him  ?  * 

The  expression  of  Mademoiselle  des  Rosieres's  counte- 
nance at  this  moment  required  no  interpreter.  "  You 
are  a  foolish  child,*  said  Fouche",  with  an  accent  of  dis- 
satisfaction ;  "  when  I  wished  to  know  if  I  might  depend 
upon  your  father,  it  was  in  the  name  of  the  First  Con- 
sul. Did  you  suppose  I  wanted  to  make  him  a  police 
spy  ?  *  He  wrote  the  address  of  Mademoiselle  des  Ros- 
ieres on  a  card,  and  before  she  left  the  room  asked  her 
why  she  applied  to  him  rather  than  to  the  First  Consul  ? 
"By  my  father's  desire,*  she  answered;  "he  thought  you 
would  have  known  his  name.*  The  Minister  was  in- 
stantly struck  with  a  remembrance  which  had  escaped 
him ;  but  he  still  doubted.  "  Tell  your  father  to  write 
me  word  this  very  day  whether  he  were  not  a  lieutenant 
of  the  King  before  the  Revolution.* 

M.  des  Rosieres's  answer  was  in  the  affirmative.  He 
had  been  the  King's  Lieutenant  in  Brittany  and  in  Bur- 
gundy or  rather  in  Franche-Comte",  and  in  this  capacity 
had  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  very  useful  to  the  young 
Abbe"  Fouche".  In  a  question  of  town  walls  escaladed, 
the  doors  of  a  seminary  forced  —  in  fine,  of  very  grave  mat- 
ters—  the  Lieutenant  of  the  King,  like  the  good  Samaritan, 
had  enveloped  the  whole  in  the  mantle  of  charity. 

I  know  not  precisely  the  extent  of  the  obligation  he 
had  conferred,  but  this  I  know,  that  the  day  succeeding 


282  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

his  daughter's  interview  with  the  Minister,  M.  des  Ros- 
ieres  received  a  safe  conduct,  and  a  short  time  after- 
ward a  free  pardon,  with  a  good  place  as  Commandant 
of  a  town  in  Alsace.  There  his  daughter  established 
herself  with  him  in  the  winter  of  1801.  She  married 
there  and  now  inhabits  her  Chateau  of  Reisberg,  some 
leagues  from  Colmar.  One  remarkable  circumstance  was 
that  the  valet  de  chambre  was  discharged. 

At  this  epoch  the  first  names  of  France  were  happy 
and  proud  to  march  under  the  shadow  of  our  laurels, 
though  some  of  them,  while  triumphing  in  the  glory  of 
their  country,  were  not  the  less  faithful  to  their  original 
allegiance.  France  has  always  been  rich  in  similar  ex- 
amples: I  shall  only  name  the  Due  de  Mouchy,  M.  de 
Montcalm,  the  Prince  de  Chalais,  MM.  de  1'Aigle,  M. 
Archambaud  de  Perigord,  as  persons  belonging  to  my 
mother's  society,  and  because  the  recollection  of  asso- 
ciation with  persons  upright  and  constant  in  their  opin- 
ions is  pleasing  to  the  mind. 

Junot,  who  was  not  prodigal  in  his  esteem  and  attach- 
ment, accorded  both  to  the  persons  I  have  named,  and 
when  he  met  them  at  my  mother's  house  he  was  not  pre- 
vented by  their  presence  from  reading  his  news;  he 
was  sure  that  the  good  fortune  of  France  would  be  wel- 
come to  them.  It  was  not  so  with  the  Marquis  d'Haute- 
f ort ;  he  was  by  disposition  contradictory  and  quarrelsome ; 
and  though  he  possessed  talents,  his  constant  unreasonable 
disputations  rendered  him  unendurable  as  a  companion. 

One  evening  Junot  (it  was  before  he  had  offered  me  his 
hand)  had  been  dining  with  Carnot,  then  Minister  of  War, 
and  having  learned  news  which  he  presumed  would  be 
agreeable  to  us,  came  to  my  mother's  with  proofs  of  some 
of  the  morrow's  journal's,  and  private  letters  which  he  had 
himself  received.  One  of  these,  from  Berthier,  whom  the 
First  Consul  had  sent  into  Spain,  contained  some  very 
interesting  details.  Madame  Visconti,  who  had  dined  with 
us,  had  learned  this,  and  was  very  impatient  to  see  the 
letter. 

Before  he  read  it,  Junot  was  remarking  upon  the 
smiling  and  happy  aspect  of  affairs,  while  only  a  few 
months  previous  France  had  been  a  scene  of  mourning. 
He  described  Italy  restored  to  our  authority,  Russia  de- 
siring our  alliance,  England  renouncing  the  title  of  King 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  283 

of  France,  to  facilitate  her  negotiations  with  the  Con- 
sular Government,  Austria  beaten  at  all  points,  and 

(<  Hold  there!  M  interrupted  M.  d'Hautefort  rudely,  "  that  is 
no  reason  for  boasting.  General  Moreau  has  caused  that." 

Junot  was  so  much  astonished,  not  only  at  the  inter- 
ruption, but  at  the  manner  of  it,  that  at  first  he  turned 
toward  M.  d'Hautefort,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  him  with- 
out speaking,  but  soon  after  observed  with  a  marked 
emphasis: 

<(  I  thought,  till  this  moment,  that  General  Moreau  was 
a  Breton;  and  I  thought,  further,  that  since  the  mar- 
riage of  Anne  of  Brittany  with  two  of  our  kings,  Brit- 
tany was  become  a  province  of  France;  and  from  this  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  General  Moreau  was  a 
Frenchman. w 

<(  Let  us  leave  these  captious  discussions,  my  dear 
friend, w  said  Madame  Visconti  in  a  coaxing  tone,  *  for  I 
am  longing  to  hear  Berthier's  letter. J>  <(  You  are  right, w 
said  Junot,  and  he  read  to  us  the  following,  which  he 
drew  from  his  pocket: 

«  ST  ILDEFONSO,  28  Fructidor,  year  ix. 

<(You  will  have  learned  by  the  journals,  my  dear  Junot,  that  I  reached 
Madrid  on  the  evening  of  the  26.  of  September.  Duroc  will  also  have 
communicated  to  you  the  letter  which  I  wrote  to  him,  and  in  which 
I  described  the  fatigue  I  had  undergone  from  the  heat  and  the  dust, 
particularly  in  the  neighborhood  of  Madrid.  Imagine  yourself  at 
Tentoura  or  at  Cesarea  —  the  same  misery.  In  all  respects  I  find  great 
resemblance  between  the  two  countries;  only  that  Egypt  has  the  ad- 
vantage. 

(<  On  arriving  at  Madrid,  I  found  that  the  whole  town  had  deferred 
their  bedtime  to  come  and  meet  me;  the  street  of  Alcala  was  illuminated 
with  torches  of  wax,  which  had  a  very  good  effect.  The  crowd  was 
so  great  that  my  carriage  could  not  proceed.  On  reaching  the  hotel 
appointed  for  my  residence,  I  alighted  from  my  carriage  to  the  sound 
of  military  music,  really  very  fine.  Alquier  had  ordered  me  an  excel- 
lent supper,  of  which  I  assure  you  that  I  did  not  fail  to  profit ;  and  I 
slept  as  if  I  were  but  twenty  years  old.  Tell  this  to  some  one  of  my 
acquaintance. 

<(I  have  therefore  slept  equally  well  on  mattresses  of  white  satin 
as  on  an  iron  bedstead.  The  morning  after  my  arrival  I  quitted  Ma- 
drid to  join  the  King  and  Queen  of  Spain  here.  In  traversing  Madrid 
I  was  so  warmly  applauded,  for  that  is  the  only  suitable  word,  that 
the  tears  started  to  my  eyes;  I  thought  at  once  of  my  much-beloved 
General,  to  whom  this  applause  was  addressed.  But  all  this  was 
nothing  compared  to  the  reception  I  met  with  from  their  Catholic  Maj- 
esties. The  King  embraced  me,  and  the  Queen,  who  is  very  handsome 
gave  me  her  hand  to  kiss,  and  then  embraced  me  also.  But  that  which 


284  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

passes  all  belief  is  the  excessive  attachment  which  their  Majesties  ex- 
press for  the  Republic,  and  especially  for  our  much-beloved  Consul.* 
His  reputation  has  crossed  the  Pyrenees,  and  is  come  to  make  friends 
for  him  in  the  heart  of  Spain.  All  goes  well.  I  hope  to  terminate  the 
commission  with  which  I  am  charged  as  I  have  usually  done,  and  merit 
his  approbation. 

(<  The  Queen  of  Spain  has  spoken  much  to  me  of  a  certain  person  of 
my  acquaintance,  whose  reputation  for  beauty,  like  the  renown  of  the 
First  Consul,  has  stepped  over  the  boundaries  of  France.  Ah,  my  dear 
Junot!  how  I  long  to  be  again  among  you  all!  I  do  not  like  Spain. 
Try  if  the  First  Consul  cannot  be  induced  to  replace  me  by  Duroc  or 
Bourrienne.  Why  I  name  the  latter,  I  cannot  rightly  say.  Adieu, 
my  dear  Junot !  You  ask  me  for  details ;  I  hope  those  I  have  sent  you 
are  sufficiently  interesting.  How  I  long  to  be  in  the  midst  of  you !  I 
beg  you  to  tell  the  Signora  PEPITA  ( that  is  what  I  shall  call  her  here ) 
that  I  have  not  forgotten  her  commission  —  she  might  be  well  assured 
of  that.  I  wrote  to  her  by  the  last  courier  I  sent ;  but  I  am  always 
happy  to  repeat  that  I  am  her  slave,  and  perhaps  she  will  more 
readily  believe  it  when  the  lips  of  a  friend  repeat  it  for  me.  Read 
her,  then,  this  part  of  my  letter.  Cara,  cara  Pepita.  You  see  that 
I  improve. 

« Adieu,  my  dear  Junot ;  adieu,  my  dear  friend.  Pray  tell  the 
First  Consul  that  you  know  I  am  ill,  and  that  he  should  not  leave 
me  long  here.  I  know  that  my  mission  is  but  temporary,  but  I  tremble 
to  think  of  the  possibility  of  remaining  here  even  three  months.  They 
write  to  me  from  Paris  that  I  am  spoken  of  for  the  Ministry  of  War.f  I 
know  nothing  of  it. 

*  Adieu,  my  friend, 

(<  Salutation  and  friendship, 

(<  ALEXANDER  BERTHIER.® 

I  ought  to  mention,  before  proceeding  further,  two 
things  of  small  importance,  but  which  are  connected  with 
this  letter.  The  first  is,  that  it  was  some  time  after- 
ward that  I  became  acquainted  with  the  whole  of  it. 
General  Junot  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  read  to  us 
Berthier's  expressions  of  love,  thrown  into  the  midst  of 
a  serious  epistle,  otherwise  filled  with  matters  of  impor- 
tance to  the  country.  There  was  something  absurd  in 
this  ambassador  of  a  great  nation,  forty-five  years  of  age, 
soliciting  a  young  man  of  twenty-seven  to  associate  with 
him  in  a  falsehood  to  procure  his  return  a  few  weeks 
sooner  to  the  side  of  his  mistress;  and  Junot  would  not 
allow  M.  d'Hautefort  the  gratification  of  remarking 
upon  it. 

This  is  not  the  only  letter  which  Junot  received  from  Berthier  in 
which  his  attachment  to  the  First  Consul  is  similarly  testified. 
|  He  was  already  nominated  to  it. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  285 

The  second  thing  was  explained  with  much  less  diffi- 
culty. He  told  us  that  Berthier  had  never  in  his  life 
been  able  to  learn  a  single  word  of  a  foreign  language. 
(<And  to  such  an  extent  was  this  eccentricity  carried," 
said  Junot,  w  that  in  Egypt  it  was  not  possible  to  make 
him  say  the  word  ' para.  * w  He  learned  it,  but  as  soon 
as  it  became  necessary  to  use  it  in  a  phrase,  it  was 
gone.  Being  once  at  Milan,  and  in  immediate  want  of  a 
tailor,  he  ordered  his  servant  to  fetch  him  one.  The 
valet,  not  understanding  a  single  word  of  Italian,  repre- 
sented to  his  master  that  he  should  lose  himself  in  the 
town,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  wait  for  the  servant 
of  the  house.  Berthier  was  impatient  and  very  peremp- 
tory, particularly  when  in  immediate  want  of  anything 
he  ordered.  (<  You  are  a  blockhead,  *  said  he  to  the  valet ; 
<(  order  the  mistress  of  the  house  to  come  up."  He 
brought  up  the  landlady,  leading  her  by  the  sleeve,  for 
she  did  not,  or  would  not,  understand  a  word  of  French. 

"Madame,"  said  Berthier,  stammering,  as  he  always 
did  when  he  intended  to  make  an  impression,  which  did 
not  help  him  at  all  — (<  Madame,  I  wish  for  a  tailor.  * 
The  landlady  looked  at  him  without  answering.  (<  Ma- 
dame,8 said  Berthier,  raising  his  voice  to  its  highest 
pitch,  that  she  might  understand  him  the  better,  <(  I  want 
a  tailor! "  The  woman  looked  at  him  in  silence,  but 
smiled  and  shook  her  head  in  token  of  not  understanding. 

<(  Par bleu!  '  *  said  Berthier;  <(  this  is  rather  too  much! 
what,  you  do  not  know  what  a  tailor  is  ? w  Then,  taking 
the  skirt  of  his  own  coat  and  that  of  his  servant,  he 
shook  first  one  and  then  the  other,  crying  still  louder 
and  louder,  "A  tailor!  I  say,  a  tailor!" 

The  landlady,  who  smiled  at  first,  now  began  to  laugh ; 
and  after  awhile,  beginning  to  think  that  her  lodger  was 
mad,  called  out  to  her  servants  as  loud  as  she  could, 
saying,  (<  Ma  £  matto  questo  benedctto  generate  !  per  il  casso 
di  san  Pasquale  e  matto. " 

Two  waiters  ran  up  at  the  furious  noise  made  by 
Berthier,  their  mistress,  and  the  valet ;  and  they  only  in- 
creased the  confusion.  <(  I  went  just  at  this  moment," 
continued  Junot,  who  related  this  story,  <(  to  visit  Berthier, 
and  from  the  foot  of  the  staircase  heard  a  noise  sufficient 
to  stun  one;  I  could  not  understand  what  should  cause 
such  a  tumult  in  his  apartment,  and  I  hurried  upstairs, 


286  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

thinking  a  friendly  fist  might  be  useful.  I  found  him 
with  a  face  as  red  as  fire,  and  eyes  starting  from  their 
sockets,  marching  up  and  down  the  room,  vehemently 
exclaiming :  w  A  tailor,  a  tailor !  It  is  to  provoke  me 
that  they  will  not  fetch  one;  they  can  hear  very  well." 
To  make  himself  better  understood,  he  had  taken  off  his 
coat,  and  was  shaking  it  like  a  lunatic.  When  I  went 
in,  he  threw  it  upon  the  ground,  and,  advancing  to  the 
landlady,  took  her  by  the  arms  and  pulled  her  before 
him,  saying,  w  Stand  there!  old  sibyP  ;  then,  shaking  his 
two  hands,  which  were  by  no  means  handsome,  he  said 
to  her :  <(  What !  you  do  not  know  what  a  tailor  is  ?  w  then 
imitating  with  his  short  thick  fingers  the  action  of  a 
pair  of  scissors,  he  cried  out  in  a  tone  of  despair,  (<  A 
tailor,  I  say;  taillcur  !  tailleur  !  taillum  !  taillarum  !  w 

The  sight  of  Junot  overjoyed  him.  An  explanation 
ensued,  and  when  Berthier  heard  the  word  sartore,  which 
he  ought  to  have  used,  <(  Pardieu!  })  said  he,  putting  on 
his  coat,  and  wiping  his  forehead ;  w  it  was  worth  while 
the  trouble  of  making  me  cry  out  like  that!  I  asked 
them  for  a  tailor.  Well !  tailleur,  sartore;  it  means  the 
same  thing  after  all;  and,  besides,  I  showed  them  my 
coat. >} 


CHAPTER   XL. 

Madame  Bernard's  Daily  Bouquet  —  Junot  Accused  of  Being  a  Con- 
spirator—  His  Inexplicable  Absence  —  Lucien  Bonaparte  and  the 
Abbe  Rose  —  A  New  Opera  —  Discussions  upon  It  —  «Les  Horaces  » 

—  Mysterious   Entreaties  of   Junot   to   Dissuade  Us   from  Going  to 
the  Opera  —  Half-Confidence  of    Junot    to    My    Brother  —  Evening 
at  the  Opera — Enthusiasm   Caused  by  the  Presence  of  Bonaparte 

—  The    First    Consul,  My   Mother,  and  the  Opera  Glass  —  Lainez, 
Laforet,    and    Mademoiselle    Maillaret — Junot     Frequently    Called 
Away;  His  Mind  Engaged  —  The  Adjutant  Laborde  —  The  Gayety 
of  Junot,  and  the  Composure  of  the  First  Consul  —  The  Conspiracy 
of   Ceracchi    and    Arena  —  Quitting    the    Opera ;    the    First    Consul 
Saved  —  The     Brothers    Ar6na  —  Nocturnal     Conversation    at    My 
Mother's. 

DURING  the  month  of  October  Junot  looked  in  upon  us 
every  morning,   and   then    came    to    dinner,   having 
his  coach  or  his  cabriolet    always  filled  with  draw- 
ings, songs,  and  a  heap  of  trifles  from  the  (<  Magazine  of 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  287 

Sikes,"  or  the  "Petit  Dunkerque,"  for  my  mother  and 
me;  and  never  forgetting-  the  bouquet,  which,  from  the 
day  of  our  engagement  to  that  of  our  marriage,  he  never 
once  failed  to  present  me.  It  was  Madame  Bernard,  the 
famous  bouquettire  to  the  Opera,  who  arranged  these 
nosegays  with  such  admirable  art;  she  has  had  successors, 
it  is  true,  but  the  honor  of  first  introducing  them  is  her 
own. 

One  day  Junot  appeared  uneasy,  agitated,  having  been 
called  away  from  the  dining-table.  It  was  then  Madame 
de  Contades,  seeing  him  very  silent,  said  jestingly: 
<(  General,  you  are  as  serious  as  a  conspirator!  M  Junot 
colored.  (<  Oh !  w  she  continued,  (<  I  know  that  you  have 
nothing  to  do  with  conspiracies,  or  at  least  that  yours  would 
only  be  directed  against  us  poor  emigrants,  returned  and 
ruined  as  we  are;  and  really  you  would  have  more  than 
fair  play !  w 

<(  I  believe, "  said  I,  "there  is  litttle  danger  in  conspir- 
acies ;  it  is  rare  that  their  motives  are  perfectly  pure,  and 
the  interest  of  the  country,  always  the  pretense,  is  gen- 
erally the  last  thing  intended;  and  therefore  it  happens 
that  almost  all  great  conspiracies  are  discovered  before 
they  take  effect.  The  real  danger  to  the  chief  of  a  state 
arises  from  a  fanatic  such  as  Jacques  Clement ;  an  insane 
ascetic,  such  as  Ravaillac  or  Jean  Chatel;  or  a  hand 
conducted  by  desperation,  like  that  of  Charlotte  Corday; 
those  are  the  blows  which  cannot  be  warded  off.  What 
barrier  can  be  opposed  to  them?  What  guards  can  pre- 
vent my  reaching  the  most  powerful  throne  upon  earth 
to  hurl  its  master  to  the  grave,  if  I  am  willing  to  give 
blood  for  blood,  life  for  life?w 

Everyone  exclaimed  against  me.  <(  Come, M  said  my 
mother,  (<  away  with  these  Grecian  and  Roman  notions. w 
I  kissed  her  hand  and  smiled;  a  glance  toward  General 
Junot  had  found  his  eyes  fixed  upon  me  with  an  expres- 
sion so  singular  that  an  idea  crossed  my  mind  that  he 
would  not  be  very  solicitous  for  a  union  with  so  resolute 
a  woman,  who  seemed  willing  to  play  with  poniards  as 
with  her  fan. 

The  thought  seemed  even  to  myself  burlesque,  because 
at  that  period  of  my  life  I  was  one  of  the  greatest  cowards 
of  my  sex.  I  was  seated  at  the  foot  of  my  mother's 
sofa,  and  leaning  toward  her,  whispered  to  her  in  Italian 


288  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

the  thought  which  had  just  struck  me.  My  mother 
laughed  as  well  as  myself,  and  we  both  looked  toward 
General  Junot,  supposing  that  he  would  understand  us, 
and  approach  to  partake  of  our  gayety.  He  came  indeed, 
but  instead  of  replying  to  our  jests,  he  fixed  on  me  an 
anxious  look,  and  taking  my  hand  and  my  mother's, 
pressed  them  both. 

While  leaning  over  us  he  said  to  me :  *  Promise  me 
not  to  speak  again  upon  this  subject;  say  you  will  not.* 
"Undoubtedly  I  will  not;  but  why?  »  «  I  will  tell  you 
by  and  by ;  at  least,  I  hope  so, w  he  added,  with  a  singular 
smile.  Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  came  in  at  that  moment, 
would  know  to  what  our  conference  related ;  for  the  other 
interlocutors  continued  the  discussion,  and  the  conspiracies 
were  still  as  much  alive  as  if  we  had  been  in  the 
praetorian  camps.  "Bah!"  said  Lucien;  "these  subjects 
of  conversation  are  not  suited  for  women,  and  I  wonder 
that  these  gentlemen  have  suffered  them  to  proceed  so 
long.  It  would  be  much  better  to  talk  of  the  opera  I 
am  to  give  you  the  day  after  to-morrow. w 

Albert,  M.  Hippolyte  de  Rastignac,  and  the  Abbe 
Rose,  arrived  at  this  moment  from  the  general  rehearsal. 
One  was  much  pleased  with  the  opera,  another  did  not 
like  it  at  all.  Albert  and  the  Abbe,  both  good  authorities, 
differed  totally  in  opinion ;  music  and  the  opera  underwent 
a  long  and  critical  discussion,  Lucien  and  Junot  mean- 
while betaking  themselves  to  private  conversation.  I  re- 
marked that  they  never  raised  their  voices,  and  that  the 
subject  which  occupied  them  seemed  to  be  serious  and 
important. 

The  expression  of  their  countenances  made  me  uncom- 
fortable, though  I  knew  of  nothing  actually  alarming. 
Everything  appeared  somber  and  mysterious  around  us. 
It  was  evident  that  great  uneasiness  agitated  the  persons 
who  were  attached  to  the  First  Consul.  I  dared  not  ask 
a  question.  Lucien  looked  upon  me  as  a  child;  and 
nothing  could  induce  me  to  interrogate  General  Junot. 
Joseph,  who  was  goodness  itself,  was  the  only  person  to 
whom  I  could  have  summoned  courage  to  speak  upon 
such  a  subject;  but  he  was  about  to  set  out  for  Luneville, 
and  we  scarcely  saw  him  again. 

On  the  nth  of  October  Junot  came  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, which  was  not  usual.  He  was  still  more  serious 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  289 

than  on  the  day  of  the  conversation  about  conspiracies. 
We  were  to  go  this  evening  to  the  first  representation 
of  (<  Les  Horaces  w  of  Porta  and  Guillard.  Guillard  was  the 
intimate  friend  of  Brunetiere,  who  interested  himself 
much  in  its  success,  and  he  begged  as  a  favor  that  we 
would  attend  it. 

This  party  was  then  arranged,  and  I  confess  much  to 
my  satisfaction.  My  mother  was  better,  and  I  looked 
forward  to  the  evening  as  a  great  treat.  It  was  then 
with  no  very  pleasant  emotion  that  I  heard  Junot  ask 
my  mother  not  to  go  to  the  opera.  His  reasons  for 
making  this  request  were  most  singular.  The  weather 
was  bad,  the  music  was  bad,  the  poem  was  good  for 
nothing;  in  short,  the  best  thing  we  could  do  was  to 
stay  at  home. 

My  mother,  who  had  prepared  her  toilet  for  all  the 
magnificence  of  a  first  representation,  and  who  would 
not  have  missed  it  had  it  been  necessary  to  pass  through 
a  tempest,  and  listen  to  the  dullest  of  poems,  would  not 
attend  to  any  of  Junot's  objections ;  and  I  was  delighted, 
for  I  placed  full  confidence  in  the  Abbe"  Rose,  \vho  said 
that  the  music  was  charming.  The  General,  however, 
still  insisted;  so  much  obstinacy  at  length  made  an  im- 
pression upon  my  mother,  who,  taking  the  General's  arm, 
said  to  him  anxiously,  <(  Junot,  why  this  perseverance  ?  is 
there  any  danger  ?  are  you  afraid  ? w 

<(  No,  no,w  exclaimed  Junot.  <(  I  am  afraid  of  nothing 
but  the  ennui  you  will  experience,  and  the  effect  of  the 
bad  weather.  Go  to  the  Opera.  But,"  continued  he, 
(<  if  you  decide  upon  going,  permit  me  to  beg  you  not  to 
occupy  the  box  you  have  hired,  but  to  accept  mine  for 
the  night. » 

<(  I  have  already  told  you,  my  dear  General,  that  it  is 
impossible.  It  would  be  contrary  to  all  established 
customs,  and  I  am  particular  in  supporting  them.  Would 
you  have  my  daughter,  your  betrothed  bride,  but  not 
yet  your  wife,  appear  in  a  box  which  all  Paris  knows 
to  be  yours  ?  And  for  what  reason  am  I  to  give  up 
mine  ? )J  <(  Because  it  is  at  the  side,  which  is  a  bad 
situation  for  the  Opera;  and  it  is,  besides,  so  near  to  the 
orchestra,  that  Mademoiselle  Laurette's  delicate  ear  will 
be  so  offended  she  will  not,  for  the  next  fortnight,  be 
able  to  perform  herself. w 
19 


290  MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME  JUNOT 

"Come,  come,"  said  my  mother,  *  there  is  no  common 
sense  in  all  this.  We  will  go  and  hear  this  second 
Cimarosa,  who,  no  doubt,  will  not  equal  his  prototype: 
but  at  all  times  a  first  representation  is  a  fine  thing.  Do 
you  dine  with  us  ?  *  <(  I  cannot, w  answered  the  General, 
(<  I  cannot  even  come  to  offer  you  my  arm,  but  I  shall 
certainly  have  the  honor  of  seeing  you  at  the  Opera. w 

On  quitting  my  mother,  the  General  went  up  to 
Albert's  apartment,  and  found  him  in  his  study,  sur- 
rounded by  those  peaceful  labors  which  so  usefully  filled 
his  time.  He  earnestly  recommended  him  not  to  lose 
sight  of  my  mother  and  myself  throughout  the  evening. 
(( I  have  endeavored, w  said  he,  (<  to  persuade  your  mother 
not  to  go  out  this  evening,  and  especially  against  going 
to  the  Opera,  but  without  any  effect.  There  may  be 
trouble  there,  though  there  is  no  actual  danger  to  fear; 
but  I  confess  I  should  be  better  pleased  if  persons  in 
whom  I  am  interested  were  at  home.  Your  prudence, 
my  dear  Albert,  guarantees  your  silence ;  you  understand 
my  situation  w ;  and  he  left  him,  promising  an  explanation 
of  what  he  had  just  said  the  next  morning,  if  not  that 
very  night. 

My  brother  came  to  my  mother,  and  the  thoughtful- 
ness  of  his  air  struck  us  immediately.  <(  Ah !  w  said  my 
mother,  (<  what  means  all  this?  Junot  would  prevent  our 
going  to  the  Opera;  and  here  is  another  preparing  to 
accompany  us  there  as  if  he  were  going  to  a  funeral. 
It  is  worth  while,  certainly,  to  lay  plans  for  gayety  if 
they  are  to  be  executed  in  such  solemnity. w  My  brother 
could  not  help  laughing  at  this  petulant  sally,  and  this 
restored  my  mother's  good  humor.  We  dined  earlier  than 
usual,  and  took  our  seats  at  the  Opera  at  eight  o'clock. 

The  boxes  were  already  filled.  The  ladies  were  all 
elegantly  dressed.  The  First  Consul  had  not  yet  taken 
his  place.  His  box  was  on  the  first  tier  to  the  left,  be- 
tween the  columns  which  separate  the  center  from  the 
side  boxes.  My  mother  remarked  that  the  eyes  of  all 
persons  in  the  pit,  and  of  nearly  all  in  the  boxes,  were 
directed  toward  it.  (<  And, w  said  Albert,  <(  observe  also 
the  expression  of  interest  and  impatience  on  the  part  of 
the  audience. w 

<(  Bah !  w  said  my  mother ;  <(  though  I  am  nearsighted, 
I  can  see  very  well  that  it  is  but  curiosity.  We  are 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  291 

always  the  same  people.  Lately,  at  that  f£te  of  the  Champ- 
de-Mars,  when  the  Abbe"  Sieyes  *  ( she  never  used  any 
other  denomination )  (<  wore  feathers  like  the  canopy  of 
the  Holy  Sacrament  under  which  he  formerly  carried  the 
Host,  did  not  everyone,  and  myself  among  the  first, 
strain  our  necks  to  obtain  a  better  sight  of  him?  And 
the  chief  of  the  BAND  OF  SHARPERS,  was  not  he  also  the 
point  of  attraction  for  all  eyes  in  the  day  of  his  power? 
Well,  this  man  is  now  master  in  his  turn,  and  he  is 
gazed  at  as  the  others  have  been  before  him." 

My  brother  persisted  in  saying  that  the  First  Consul 
was  loved,  and  that  the  others  had  only  been  feared.  I 
was  quite  of  his  opinion,  and  my  mother  only  replied  by 
shrugging  her  shoulders.  At  this  moment  the  door  of 
the  First  Consul's  box  opened,  and  he  appeared  with 
Duroc,  Colonel  Savary,  and,  I  think,  Colonel  Lemarrois. 
Scarcely  was  he  perceived,  when,  from  all  parts  of  the 
theater,  arose  simultaneously  plaudits  so  unanimous  that 
they  appeared  to  constitute  but  one  and  the  same  sound. 

The  stage  was  thought  of  no  more;  all  heads  were 
turned  toward  General  Bonaparte,  and  a  stifled  hurrah 
accompanied  the  clapping  of  hands  and  stamping  of  feet. 
He  saluted  the  audience  with  much  smiling  grace ;  and 
it  is  well  known  that  the  least  smile  enlivened  his  natu- 
rally stern  countenance,  and  imparted  a  striking  charm  to 
it.  The  applause  continuing,  he  inclined  his  head  two- 
or  three  times  without  rising,  but  still  smiling. 

My  mother  observed  him  through  her  glass,  and  did 
not  lose  one  of  his  movements.  It  was  the  first  time 
she  had  seen  him  since  the  great  events  of  Brumaire, 
and  he  so  entirely  occupied  her  attention  that  General 
Junot  came  into  the  box  without  her  perceiving  him. 
<(  Well,  do  you  find  him  changed  since  you  saw  him 
last  ?  w  said  he. 

My  mother  turned  hastily  round,  and  was  as  much 
embarrassed  as  a  young  girl  who  should  be  asked  why 
she  looked  out  of  the  window  when  the  person  who  most 
interested  her  was  passing.  We  all  laughed,  and  she 
joined  us.  Meanwhile,  the  orchestra  had  recommenced 
its  harmonious  clamor,  giving  the  diapason  to  Laforet 
and  Lainez,  who  both  screamed  in  emulation  who  should 
be  best,  or  rather  who  should  be  worst;  and  Mademoi- 
selle Maillaret  chimed  in  with  lungs  worthy  of  a  Roman 


292  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

lady  of  ancient  times,  making  us  regret  that  Madame 
Chevallier  no  longer  occupied  the  scene.  My  mother, 
whose  Italian  ear  could  not  support  such  discord,  often 
turned  toward  General  Junot  to  speak  of  the  enchanting 
songs  of  Italy,  so  soft  and  so  sweet. 

At  one  of  these  moments  Andoche  slightly  touched 
her  arm,  and  made  her  a  sign  to  look  to  the  First  Con- 
sul's box.  General  Bonaparte  had  his  glass  directed 
toward  us,  and  as  soon  as  he  perceived  that  my  mother 
saw  him,  he  made  two  or  three  inclinations  in  the  form 
of  a  salutation :  my  mother  returned  the  attention  by  one 
movement  of  her  head,  which  was  probably  not  very 
profound,  for  the  First  Consul,  as  will  be  shortly  seen, 
complained  to  my  mother  herself  of  her  coldness  toward 
him  this  night.  Junot  would  also  have  reproached  her 
at  the  instant  had  not  one  of  the  officers  of  the  garrison 
of  Paris  tapped  at  the  door  of  the  box  to  request  him  to 
come  out.  It  was  an  adjutant  named  Laborde,  the  most 
cunning  and  crafty  of  men.  His  figure  and  his  manner 
were  at  this  moment  indescribable.  Albert,  who  now 
saw  him  for  the  first  time,  wished  for  a  pencil  to  make 
a  sketch  of  him. 

General  Junot  was  absent  but  a  few  moments.  When 
he  returned  to  the  box,  his  countenance,  which  all  day 
had  been  serious,  and  even  melancholy,  had  resumed  in 
a  moment  its  gayety  and  openness,  relieved  of  all  the 
clouds  which  had  veiled  it.  He  leaned  toward  my 
mother,  and  said,  very  low,  not  to  be  heard  in  the  next 
IDOX: 

<(  Look  at  the  First  Consul ;  remark  him  well. B  (<  Why 
would  you  have  me  fix  my  eyes  on  him  ? M  said  my 
mother ;  <(  it  would  be  ridiculous. *  (<  No,  no,  it  is  quite 
natural.  Look  at  him  with  your  glass;  then  I  will  ask 
the  same  favor  from  Mademoiselle  Laurette.  *  I  took  the 
opera  glass  from  my  brother,  and  looked  at  him  in  my 
turn.  <(  Well,*  said  the  General,  (<  what  do  you  observe  ?  M 
« Truly, *  I  replied,  (<  I  have  seen  an  admirable  counte- 
nance ;  for  I  can  conceive  nothing  superior  to  the  strength 
in  repose,  and  greatness  in  quiescence,  which  it  indicates.* 
(C  You  find  its  expression,  then,  calm  and  tranquil  ?  * 
(<  Perfectly.  But  why  do  you  ask  that  question  ? M  said  I, 
much  astonished  at  the  tone  of  emotion  with  which  the 
General  had  put  this  question. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  293 

He  had  not  time  to  answer.  One  of  his  aids-de-camp 
came  to  the  little  window  of  the  box  to  call  him.  This 
time  he  was  absent  longer,  and  on  his  return  wore  an  air 
of  joy;  his  eyes  were  directed  toward  the  box  of  the 
First  Consul  with  an  expression  which  I  could  not  under- 
stand. The  First  Consul  was  buttoning  the  gray  coat 
which  he  wore  over  the  uniform  of  the  Consular  Guard, 
and  was  preparing  to  leave  the  box.  As  soon  as  this 
was  perceived,  the  acclamations  were  renewed  as  vehe- 
mently as  on  his  entrance. 

At  this  moment,  Junot,  no  longer  able  to  conquer  his 
emotion,  leaned  upon  the  back  of  my  chair  and  burst 
into  tears.  "Calm  yourself, w  said  I,  leaning  toward  him 
to  conceal  him  from  my  mother,  who  would  certainly 
have  exercised  her  wit  upon  him.  "  Calm  yourself,  I  en- 
treat you.  How  can  a  sentiment  altogether  joyful  pro- 
duce such  an  effect  upon  you?*  "Ah!"  replied  Junot, 
quite  low,  but  with  an  expression  I  shall  never  forget; 
<(  he  has  narrowly  escaped  death !  the  assassins  are  at  this 
moment  arrested." 

I  could  hardly  restrain  an  exclamation,  but  Junot  per- 
emptorily silenced  me.  "Say  nothing;  you  will  be  over- 
heard. Let  us  hasten  out,"  said  he.  He  was  so  much 
agitated  that  he  gave  me  my  mother's  shawl,  and  her 
mine;  then,  taking  my  arm,  made  me  hastily  descend 
the  staircase  which  led  to  a  private  door  opening  upon 
the  Rue  de  Louvois,  reserved  for  the  authorities  and  the 
diplomatic  body.  My  mother,  conducted  by  my  brother, 
rejoined  us  at  the  glass  door,  and  jestingly  asked  the 
General  if  he  meant  to  carry  me  off.  Junot,  though 
cheerful,  still  had  his  mind  too  much  fixed  on  important 
subjects  to  reply  to  her  raillery;  my  thoughts  were 
wholly  occupied  by  the  few  words  he  had  said  in  the 
box,  and  the  silence  and  haste  imposed  upon  me  alarmed 
and  seriously  affected  me.  Junot  observed  my  paleness, 
and,  fearing  that  I  should  faint,  ran  into  the  street, 
though  it  rained  in  torrents,  without  listening  to  my 
mother,  to  find  our  carriages  and  servants. 

He  met  with  his  own  first ;  my  mother  did  not  perceive  it 
till  she  was  already  on  the  step,  but  immediately  made 
an  effort  to  withdraw.  Junot,  reminding  her  of  the  rain 
and  her  health,  with  a  gentle  pressure  compelled  her  to 
get  in;  then  whispering  to  me,  (<  All  is  right;  for  heaven's 


294  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

sake  compose  yourself,  and  say  nothing  !w  called  to  his 
coachman,  <(  Rue  Sainte  Croix. w  Then,  taking  Albert's 
arm,  they  went  together  to  seek  my  mother's  carriage, 
in  which  they  followed,  or  rather  preceded  us;  for  we 
found  them  at  home  on  our  arrival. 

My  mother  was  throughout  her  life  a  sort  of  worshiper 
of  etiquette,  and  of  the  usages  which  should  form  the 
code  of  elegance  and  good  breeding.  If  she  ever  failed 
in  them  herself,  it  was  from  an  excessive  vivacity  which 
she  could  not  always  command;  not  from  ignorance  of 
what  was  correct,  or  any  intention  of  neglecting  it. 
Notwithstanding  her  acute  and  amiable  disposition,  she 
attached  an  extreme  importance  to  these  trifles ;  more  so 
than  can  be  conceived,  without  taking  into  consideration 
the  education  she  had  received,  and  the  seal  of  indelible 
prejudice  which  the  circumstances  of  the  times  had  im- 
pressed upon  them. 

No  sooner  were  we  alone  and  in  the  carriage  than  she 
began  to  dilate  upon  the  dissatisfaction  Junot  had  caused 
her. 

<(  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  hurrying  backward 
and  forward,  and  in  gala  costume  too  ?  Who  would  ever 
have  believed  that  I  should  give  my  arm  to  an  officer  in 
uniform  to  leave  the  Opera  ?  It  is  too  ridiculous.  I  will 
tell  him  not  to  go  to  the  Opera  again  in  uniform.  He 
will  understand  the  propriety  of  it;  he  has  sense  and 
good  taste.  And  then  to  leave  us  hanging  upon  Albert's 
two  arms,  making  him  resemble  a  pitcher  with  two 
handles!  Who  ever  saw  a  man  of  fashion  give  his  arm 
to  two  women  at  once  ?  It  is  very  well  for  Sike's  first 
clerk  to  gallant  the  wife  and  daughter  of  his  master  to 
the  theater  in  that  manner.  But  a  more  serious  fault 
which  I  have  to  reproach  him  with  is  putting  me  into 
his  carriage.  It  is  to  be  hoped  no  one  of  distinction  was 
near.  Did  you  observe  whether  any  of  our  acquaintance 
were  in  the  corridor  ? w 

I  had  seen  several  persons  whom  I  knew  just  before  I 
got  into  the  carriage,  but  I  should  have  been  very  un- 
willing to  increase  her  displeasure  by  telling  her  so;  I 
had  not  time,  however,  to  answer  before  we  stopped  at 
our  own  door,  and  Albert  and  Junot,  already  arrived, 
received  us  there.  Junot  led  my  mother  to  her  apart- 
ment, placed  her  on  her  sofa,  surrounded  her  by  those 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  295 

thousand  and  one  little  things  which  are  necessary  to  the 
comfort  of  an  invalid;  then  seating  himself  upon  a  stool 
at  her  feet,  and  taking  her  hands  in  his,  assumed  a  tone 
suitable  to  the  important  event  he  was  about  to  relate. 
He  informed  her  that  Ceracchi  and  Are"na —  the  one 
actuated  by  Republican  fanaticism,  the  other  by  venge- 
ance—  had  taken  measures  to  assassinate  Bonaparte. 

As  General  Junot  proceeded  in  his  account  his  voice 
became  stronger,  his  language  more  emphatic;  every 
word  was  a  thought,  and  every  thought  came  from  his 
heart.  In  painting  Bonaparte  such  as  he  saw  him  daily 
—  such,  in  fact,  as  he  was  at  that  time  —  his  masculine 
and  sonorous  voice  assumed  a  tone  of  sweetness:  it  was 
melody;  but  when  he  proceeded  to  speak  of  those  men 
who,  to  satisfy  their  vengeance  or  their  senseless  am- 
bitions, would  assassinate  him  who  was  at  that  moment 
charged  with  the  futurity  of  France,  his  voice  failed, 
broken  by  sobs,  and,  leaning  his  head  upon  my  mother's 
pillow,  he  wept  like  a  child;  then,  as  if  ashamed  of  his 
weakness,  he  went  to  seat  himself  in  the  most  obscure 
corner  of  the  room. 

My  mother's  heart  was  formed  to  understand  such  a 
heart  as  Junot's;  and,  open  as  she  was  to  all  the  tender 
emotions,  she  was  violently  agitated  by  the  state  in 
which  she  saw  him.  In  her  turn  she  burst  into  tears. 
(<  How  you  love  him !  M 

<(  How  I  love  him !  w  answered  he,  firmly  joining  his 
hands,  and  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven.  tt  Yes,  I  love 
him!  Judge, M  continued  he,  rising  and  promenading  the 
room  as  he  spoke  — <(  judge  what  I  suffered  a  few  days  ago, 
when  your  daughter,  with  an  eloquence  foreign  to  her 
sex  and  age,  convinced  us  that  all  barriers,  all  precau- 
tions, would  fall  before  the  poniard  of  an  assassin,  pro- 
vided he  were  but  willing  to  sacrifice  his  own  life.  But 
what  more  particularly  hurt  me  was  to  hear  her  repre- 
sent this  same  assassin  as  becoming  great  by  his  crime. w 

My  mother  looked  at  me  with  a  countenance  of  dis- 
satisfaction. Albert,  who  was  sitting  near  the  fire,  said 
nothing;  but  I  was  sure  he  did  not  blame  me. 

<(A11  that,"  said  my  mother,  "comes  of  Laurette's 
speaking  upon  subjects  which  are  not  in  the  province  of 
women.  I  have  often  told  her  how  much  that  habit  im- 
paired her  power  of  pleasing;  but  she  pays  no  attention 


296  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

to  what  I  say  on  the  subject.  In  my  time  we  only  knew 
that  the  month  of  May  was  the  month  of  roses,  and  our 
igorance  did  not  make  us  the  less  agreeable.  For  my 
scientific  education,  I  never  read  any  book  but  (<  Telem- 
achus,"  and  yet,  I  believe,  I  can  converse  without  being 
tiresome.  I  hope,  my  dear  child,  that  you  will  correct 
that  error. w 

(<  Ah,  I  hope  not !  w  answered  General  Junot.  (<  You 
have  misunderstood  me:  it  was  not  what  Mademoiselle 
Laurette  said  which  gave  me  pain;  but  I  immediately 
considered  that  you  were  acquainted  with  Are*na,  that 
he  often  visited  here;  that  you  also  knew  Ceracchi;  that 
these  men  might  have  heard  your  daughter  speak  in  the 
same  strain ;  and  that  the  soul  and  the  head  of  the  latter 
especially  was  capable  of  replying  to  the  appeal  which 
he  might  fancy  to  be  thus  made  to  him  through  the  lips 
of  a  young  girl,  and  might  in  consequence  develop  a  few 
moments  sooner  his  diabolical  intentions.  All  this  is  very 
ridiculous,  very  senseless,  is  it  not?  *  continued  the  Gen- 
eral, seeing  my  brother  smile  at  the  last  words,  (<but  I 
cannot  help  it;  for  the  last  week  I  have  not,  in  fact, 
been  master  of  my  own  thoughts.  You  may  judge  if 
they  were  likely  to  be  calmed  by  the  First  Consul's  reso- 
lution of  going  to  the  Opera  this  evening  to  expose  him- 
self to  the  poniards  of  assassins!  We  have  yet  only 
taken  Ceracchi,  Arena,  and,  I  believe,  Demerville.* 
They  are  just  taken;  but  they  were  not  the  only  con- 
spirators. It  is  pretended  that  England  and  the  English 
committee  are  concerned  —  always  the  English !  There 
are  really  only  two  motives:  one  is  the  hatred  of  the 
family  and  of  Corsica,  the  other  a  fanaticism  of  liberty 
carried  to  madness.  This  is  what  should  alarm  the 
friends  of  the  First  Consul.  The  most  active  police  has 
no  power  in  such  a  case,  and  no  means  of  prevention. w 

<(  And  what, w  said  my  mother, (<  does  Fouche"  say  to  all  this. }) 

The  General  made  no  answer,  but  his  forehead  became 
wrinkled  and  his  brows  contracted;  he  crossed  his  arms 
on  his  breast,  and  continued  his  walk  some  time  in  si- 
lence; then  said,  <(  Don't  speak  to  me  of  that  man." 

His  expression,  even  in  silence,  was  of  such  a  nature 
that  it  stupefied  us  all.  I  have  since  learned  the  cause 

*A  man  of  the  name  of  Diana  was  an  accomplice,  and  arrested  the 
same  evening. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  297 

of  thfs  sentiment,  which  broke  through  all  Junot's  efforts 
to  restrain  it;  and  I  felt  what  he  must  have  suffered 
under  such  a  conviction. 

(<  No ;  do  not  speak  to  me  of  that  man,  particularly  to- 
day. I  have  had  a  scene  with  him  this  morning!  If  he 
had  a  heart  —  but  he  knew  better.  If  he  had  but  red  blood 
in  his  -vjms,  we  should  have  cut  each  other's  throats  like 
brave  men  —  like  men,  at  least.  What  nonsense  to  come 
and  tell  me  that  this  affair  of  Ceracchi  was  but  child's 
play! — to  me,  who  for  twelve  days  past  have  followed 
him  step  by  step,  while  he  ...  But  he  is  in  the 
right,"  he  continued,  with  a  bitter  smile;  «  he  told  me, 
and  I  believe  it  is  true,  that  he  should  know  as  much 
about  it  in  an  hour.  I  am  almost  sure  of  the  treason 
of  .  .  .» 

Albert,  who  had  risen,  approached  Junot  and  whispered 
to  him.  The  General  made  an  inclination  of  his  head, 
and  pressed  my  brother's  hand;  they  again  exchanged  a 
few  words,  and  he  resumed: 

(<  And  what  do  you  think  he  said  upon  this  resolution 
of  the  First  Consul  to  go  to  the  Opera  ?  He  blamed  him 
as  I  did ;  but  what  was  the  motive  ?  (  Because, *  says  he, 
( it  is  an  ambush. y  You  suppose,  no  doubt,  that  this 
deprecated  ambush  was  for  the  First  Consul  ?  No  such 
thing ;  it  was  for  these  honest  rascals,  whose  necks  I  would 
wring  as  willingly  as  a  sparrow's,*  and  with  no  more 
scruple,  after  what  I  have  learned  of  them,  and  the  honor- 
able function  which  I  find  them  exercising.  He  made 
me  an  oration,  which  I  believe  was  taken  from  his  col- 
lection of  homilies,  by  which  he  proposed  to  prove  that 
the  affair  might  be  prevented  going  to  this  length.  As 
I  had  already  had  a  very  warm  discussion  upon  the  same 
subject  with  a  personage  whom  the  First  Consul  will 
know  some  day  for  what  he  really  is  (and  the  time  is 
happily  not  far  distant),  and  as  I  knew  that  this  person- 
age and  Pouche"  had  been  emulating  each  other  in  their 
interference  in  this  affair,  I  was  desirous  that  my  way  of 
thinking  should  be  equally  known  to  both  of  them.  I 
therefore  obliged  Fouche  to  explain  himself  clearly,  and 

*I  make  my  husband  speak  here  in  the  language  he  used  in  familiar 
intercourse,  when  sufficiently  excited  to  neglect  to  speak  in  a  more 
formal  style  ;  which,  however,  when  so  disposed,  he  could  do  as  well 
as  many  others,  if  not  better. 


298 

to  tell  me  that  it  was  wrong  to  lead  on  these  men  to  the 
moment  of  executing  their  design,  since  it  could  be  pre- 
vented. That  was  his  opinion. 

<(  (And  thus,  '  said  I,  *  you  would  replace  in  society  two 
men  who  have  evidently  conspired  against  the  Chief  of 
the  State,  and  that  not  to  force  him  to  resign  his  authority, 
not  to  remove  him  from  it,  but  to  murder  him  for  the 
satisfaction  of  their  own  passions.  Do  you  believe  that 
Ceracchi  —  content  to  die  if,  in  sacrificing  himself,  he 
could  kill  the  First  Consul ;  putting  him  to  death  to  glut 
an  inordinate  passion,  in  obedience  to  a  species  of  mono- 
mania—  do  you  believe  that  this  madman  will  be  cured 
by  a  single  admonition,  or  by  an  act  of  generosity  ? 
No;  he  must  kill  the  man,  whom  he  looks  upon  as  a 
tyrant,  and  whom  he  will  never  be  induced  to  see  in  any 
other  light.  Or  do  you  believe  that  Arena,  during  so 
many  years  the  enemy  of  General  Bonaparte,  will  abjure 
his  hatred  against  the  First  Consul  because  the  latter 
has  taken  up  the  character  of  Augustus  ?  No.  It  is  his 
death  they  desire.  Listen  to  the  expression  of  Ceracchi 
in  buying  a  poniard:  (<  I  SHOULD  LIKE  BETTER  A  GOOD 

KNIFE  THAT  DOES  NOT  SHUT,  AND  THE  BLADE  SOLID  AND 
SURE,  WHICH  WILL  NOT  FAIL  IN  THE  HAND!"  To  leave  a 

determined  assassin  like  this  to  his  bloodthirsty  contriv- 
ances, what  is  it  but  to  ensure  to-morrow  the  full  execu- 
tion of  the  project  you  have  averted  to-day  ? 

(<  (  This  is  not  my  first  knowledge  of  the  Arenas.  The 
First  Consul,  who  is  thoroughly  good-hearted,  is  willing 
to  forget  the  evil  they  have  always  been  forward  to  do 
him.  But  I  have  not  so  forgiving  a  soul.  I  remember 
his  arrest  in  the  South.*  I  have  heard  the  particulars 
of  the  1 8th  Brumaire,f  and  am  completely  acquainted 
with  all  the  circumstances  of  the  present  affair.!  Cer- 

*When  Bonaparte  was  arrested  by  command  of  Salicetti,  the 
Adjutant-General  Arena,  the  Commissary  Denniee,  and  the  Command- 
ant of  Gendarmerie  Vervain,  were  the  persons  intrusted  with  the  execu- 
tion of  the  order. 

f  It  is  Junot  who  speaks :  he  was  convinced  that  the  representative 
Arena,  elder  brother  of  the  conspirator  (they  must  not  be  confounded), 
had  attempted  to  assassinate  General  Bonaparte  at  Saint  Cloud.  I  do 
not  believe  it ;  he  hated  Bonaparte,  but  would  not  have  assassinated 
him. 

\  The  plan  of  the  conspirators  was  to  stab  the  First  Consul  as  he 
came  out  of  his  box,  which,  as  I  have  before  observed,  was  on  the  left 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  299 

tainly  I  trembled  to  see  the  First  Consul  go  to  face 
death,  which,  notwithstanding  all  our  cares,  he  might  en- 
counter; but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  saw  but  this  means 
of  cutting  through  the  net  they  had  cast  around  him. 
His  existence  would  be  rendered  miserable  supposing  it 
were  preserved.  There  would  be  daily  new  conspiracies 
—  a  hydra  constantly  reviving.* 

(<When  Fouche","  continued  Junot,  "found  that  I  saw 
through  him,  notwithstanding  his  cunning,  he  had  recourse 
to  the  sentiments  of  humanity.  He,  Fouche"!  He  ha- 
rangued me  in  the  style  of  a  homily,  and  all  this  with  a 
head  that  one  would  suppose  he  had  stolen  from  a 
skeleton.  Oh,  what  a  man!  And  the  First  Consul  will 
place  faith  in  his  words!  At  length  we  shall  see  the 
conclusion  of  this  affair,  which  he  and  another  called 
child's  play  —  reason  in  all  things. w 

My  mother  listened  attentively,  and  I  remarked  that 
during  General  Junot's  long  discourse  she  and  my  brother 
often  interchanged  signs  of  acquiescence.  When  he  had 
ceased  speaking,  she  told  him  how  just  she  considered 
his  observations  upon  the  Arenas  to  be.  <(  They  nourish 
hatred  in  their  hearts, w  said  she  — <(  a  hatred  which  may 
be  dated  long  previously  to  the  i8th  Brumaire,  or  to  the 
events  of  Italy.  I  know  not  from  what  it  arises,  but  I 
am  sure  that  it  exists.  One  thing  that  surprises  me  is, 
that  Napoleon,  Lucien,  and  Joseph  are  the  sole  objects  of 
this  hatred;  and  I  believe  they  return  it,  though,  to  say 
the  truth,  I  have  only  conjectures  respecting  their  senti- 
ments, while  I  have  proofs  of  the  hatred  of  the  Arenas 
toward  them.  With  respect  to  Ceracchi,  nothing  you 
could  say  of  him  would  surprise  me.  Permon,  who  knew 
him  in  Italy,  introduced  him  to  me  at  a  ball  at  M.  Del- 
anoue's.  Since  then  I  have  sometimes  seen  him  at 
Madame  Magimelli's,  at  Auteuil;  I  acknowledge  that  his 
exaggerated  notions  have  made  me  tremble,  yet  his  dis- 
taste of  life  and  his  profound  melancholy  rendered  him 
interesting. w 

between  the  columns.  At  this  period  the  First  Consul  went  in  and  out 
by  the  general  entrance.  The  gallery  and  the  staircase  leading  to  the 
Rue  de  Louvois  were  always  crowded  with  people  to  see  him  pass. 
The  assassins  were  to  strike  as  he  stepped  out  of  the  box.  Colonel 
Savary  behaved  nobly  on  this  occasion;  he  would  leave  the  box  first, 
though  ht,  was  not  the  person  appointed  to  do  so. 


300  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

I  have  also  seen  this  Ceracchi,  and  witnessed  some  of 
his  ebullitions  of  enthusiastic  Republicanism  at  Madame 
Magimelli's,  and  I  confess  he  had  not  produced  upon  my 
mind  the  same  disagreeable  impressions  that  he  had  up- 
on my  mother.  I  pitied  him  warmly,  for  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  perceive  that  his  excessive  sensibility  must 
render  him  miserable. 

The  conversation  now  returned  to  the  Arenas;  my 
mother  was  much  affected  by  this  arrest.  Her  native 
country  was  always  dear  to  her  heart,  and  Are"na  was  a 
fellow-countryman.  Junot  put  several  questions  to  her 
respecting  the  conduct  of  the  brothers  for  some  years 
past  at  Paris.  My  mother  communicated  all  that  she 
knew  on  the  subject,  and  it  was  but  little,  because,  of 
all  the  Corsicans  at  Paris,  the  Arenas  were  those  who 
visited  her  the  least  frequently. 

This  conversation,  however,  brought  to  my  mother's 
recollection  a  rather  remarkable  one  which  passed  between 
her  and  Pepe  Arena  on  the  iyth  Brumaire,  the  eve  of  the 
famous  1 8th.  On  that  day  we  were  visited  by  several 
Corsican  representatives,  whom  we  had  not  seen  for  some 
time  before,  and  among  them  Pepe"  Arena.  He  came  in 
the  morning.  His  countenance  was  full  of  care,  and  she 
remarked  it  to  him.  He  smiled,  but  his  smile  was  forced. 
He  spoke  to  her  of  Corsica,  of  my  grandmother  and  my 
uncles,  then  suddenly  inquired  if  she  had  seen  Lucien 
lately.  My  mother  answered  that  she  saw  him  nearly 
every  day,  which  was  true,  and,  as  she  had  much  friend- 
ship for  the  young  tribune  of  the  people,  she  spoke  of 
the  high  reputation  he  had  already  acquired  as  an  orator : 
my  brother-in-law,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  was  his  inti- 
mate friend,  at  that  time  frequently  brought  us  the  jour- 
nals which  reported  the  speeches  (almost  always  extempore) 
which  he  pronounced  in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred. 
Some  of  these  improvisations  contained  admirable  strokes 
of  eloquence.  (( I  do  not  always  agree  in  opinion  with 
him,"  said  my  mother,  (<but  I  do  not,  therefore,  the  less 
esteem  his  talents  and  his  character. " 

(<  He  is  very  young  to  wish  to  direct  us,"  said  Arena, 
with  an  expression  of  some  bitterness  (Lucien  was,  in 
fact,  the  youngest  member  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hun- 
dred). <(  But  it  seems  to  me  that  your  opinions  are  the 
same,"  replied  my  mother;  <(  what,  then,  signifies  the  age 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  301 

of  a  man,  provided  he  has  ability  ?  His  brother  has  not 
waited  to  be  forty  years  old  to  gain  battles. "  (<  Ah,  ah ! 
you  are  reconciled  with  General  Bonaparte.  He  has  been, 
then,  to  beg  pardon,  for,  faith,  he  could  do  no  less. w 
"  We  are  not  now  discussing  the  subject  of  pardon  or 
offenses, w  said  my  mother,  a  little  displeased.  w  I  was 
speaking  of  Lucien  and  the  glory  of  his  brother. M  * 

At  the  moment  when  Pepe*  was  about  to  reply  some 
one  entered,  and  the  conversation  instantly  ceased. 
Are"na  soon  after  took  up  his  hat  to  depart;  my  mother 
invited  him  to  dine  which  he  declined,  pleading  an  en- 
gagement in  the  country.  My  mother  told  him,  laugh- 
ing, that  he  was  offended,  which  he  denied;  but  she 
afterward  told  us  that  from  that  moment  she  was  con- 
vinced that  Lucien,  and  whoever  bore  the  name  of  Bon- 
aparte, was  held  in  great  dislike  by  Are"na. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

My  Mother's  Illness  and  Long  Convalescence  —  My  Brother's  Treasures 
—  Watching  and  Supper  —  The  Bath,  a  Betrayer  —  Scene  of  Burglary 
by  Night  —  Terrible  Alarms  —  Conversation  of  the  Thieves — Fright- 
ful Situation  —  Recital  of  this  Adventure  to  the  First  Consul  —  Bona- 
parte's Singular  Question. 

IN  THE  first  year  of  the  Consulate  one  of  those  adven- 
tures happened  to  me  which  sometimes  influence  the 
whole  life  of  an  individual,  by  making  an  entire 
change  in  the  character  of  some  of  its  attributes.  The 
impression  made  upon  my  mind  by  the  terrors  of  the 
night  I  am  going  to  describe  was  so  great  that  I  lost  for 
a  time  every  vestige  of  courage;  and  if  its  effects  have 
at  length  been  sufficiently  overcome  to  prevent  me  from 
making  myself  ridiculous,  I  have  rather  to  thank  the  ef- 
forts of  my  reason  for  the  remedy  than  the  simple  opera- 
tion of  time. 

My  mother  was  recovering  from  a  malady  as  alarm- 
ing as  it  was  painful  —  an  abscess  of  the  head,  caused 

*One  of  the  most  curious  effects  of  my  mother's  relations  with 
Napoleon  was  that  anything  said  against  him  in  her  presence  always 
offended  her.  She  only  spoke  of  her  own  displeasure  with  him  to 
ier  most  intimate  friends. 


302  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

by  a  severe  blow  against  a  marble  mantelpiece.  During  the 
thirteen  days  in  which  the  humor  was  forming,  my  poor 
mother's  sufferings  were  distracting,  and  without  a  mo- 
ment's respite.  Fortunately  it  found  a  vent  by  the  ear; 
for  a  long  time  afterward  the  smallest  unusual  noise 
produced  headaches  so  violent  that  they  were  at  first  at- 
tributed to  tic  douloureux.  Her  convalescence  was  very 
tedious,  and  demanded  the  utmost  care.  The  doctors 
particularly  ordered  that  her  sleep  should  be  prolonged 
as  much  as  possible,  and  that  she  should  be  kept  per- 
fectly quiet. 

My  brother  was  in  the  habit  of  spending  the  dfaadi  in 
the  country,  and  not  returning  home  till  the  following 
morning.  In  consequence  of  some  business  he  was  trans- 
acting for  a  friend,  he  had,  on  the  night  I  am  speaking 
of,  the  temporary  custody  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  and 
both  these  circumstances  were  known  to  a  porter  whom 
he  had  been  long  in  the  habit  of  employing  in  various 
commissions.  This  man  had  carried  home  for  my  brother 
a  chest  clamped  with  iron,  and  secured  by  a  capital 
lock;  its  contents  were  valuable,  and  so  heavy  that  the 
man  was  much  fatigued  by  his  exertions,  and  Albert 
offered  him  a  glass  of  wine,  saying:  "Drink,  my  poor 
fellow,  it  will  do  you  good,  for  you  are  terribly  hot. >} 

The  porter,  shaking  his  head,  observed,  (<  Oh,  I  am 
accustomed  to  act  the  beast  of  burden;  you  could  not 
have  carried  half  as  much. M  My  brother,  whose  cheerful 
and  sociable  temper  made  him  always  ready  with  a  jest, 
answered  him,  laughing,  <(  But  I  have  carried  double, 
though. w  At  first  the  man  started  and  exclaimed,  <(  It 
is  impossible !  w  but  presently  added,  <(  Oh,  I  understand !  w 
and  was  about  to  depart,  when  he  was  ordered  to  fetch 
my  brother's  cabriolet  for  his  excursion  to  Sainte  Mande". 

When,  however,  the  cabriolet  was  at  the  door,  and  the 
porter,  who  by  his  habits  of  employment  in  the  family 
knew  that  Albert  would  not  return  till  the  next  morn- 
ing, had  departed,  the  plan  was  changed  and  the  carriage 
remanded  in  consequence  of  my  mother's  unwillingness 
to  part  with  my  brother.  The  day  passed  happily,  and 
my  mother  went  to  bed  at  her  usual  hour,  and  in  good 
spirits. 

I  remained  by  her  side  till  she  was  asleep,  and  when 
convinced  by  the  regularity  of  her  respiration  that  she 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  303 

was  so,  I  left  her  about  midnight,  and  repaired  to  my 
own  apartment,  separated  from  that  of  my  mother  only 
by  a  door,  which  I  left  ajar.  I  then  took  up  a  book, 
being  unwilling  to  retire  to  my  bed  till  quite  satisfied 
that  my  mother's  sleep  would  be  calm.  The  silence  of 
night  now  enveloped  the  city,  only  broken  at  intervals 
by  the  rapid  passage  of  a  carriage,  or  a  distant  murmur, 
which  served  to  show  that  some  few  individuals  were 
still  awake;  these  sounds,  however,  were  more  and  more 
rarely  heard,  till  at  length  the  quiet  in  the  street 
became  as  complete  as  that  which  reigned  in  my  own 
apartment. 

By  a  small  timepiece  on  my  little  table  I  observed  that 
it  now  wanted  but  a  quarter  to  one.  My  mother  had 
then  been  an  hour  asleep,  and  I  concluded  that  I  might 
safely  lie  down ;  but  in  preparing  to  do  so  I  found  myself 
hungry,  and  began  to  look  round  for  my  supper.  The 
habit  of  sitting  up  a  great  part  of  the  night  had  obliged 
me  to  supply  the  want  of  rest  with  an  extra  meal,  and 
some  fruit  with  bread  or  cake  was  generally  left  in  my 
room  for  this  purpose.  Sometimes,  however,  this  was 
forgotten  both  by  the  servants  and  myself,  and  on  such 
occasions  I  seldom  slept  well.  This  night  I  looked  in 
vain  for  my  usual  refreshment,  but  the  key  of  the  dining- 
room  lay  on  my  table. 

The  kitchen  was  in  the  basement,  the  offices  of  the 
domestic  establishment  on  the  ground  floor,  my  mother's 
apartments  and  mine  on  the  first  floor,  my  brother's  on 
the  second,  and  the  sleeping  rooms  of  the  servants,  not 
one  of  whom  was  lodged  below  us,  all  in  the  attic  story. 
The  rooms  surrounded  the  staircase,  and  were  connected 
by  a  gallery. 

On  seeing  the  dining-room  key,  which  was  always 
deposited  in  my  room  when  the  apartments  were  closed 
for  the  night,  I  remembered  that  in  the  buffet  I  should 
find  something  to  eat,  and,  accordingly,  with  as  little 
noise  as  possible,  fearing  that  I  might  wake  my  mother, 
I  opened  my  own  door  and  crossed  the  landing  place  to 
that  of  the  dining-room.  There  I  found  both  straw- 
berries and  bread,  and,  helping  myself,  I  was  about  to  sit 
down  at  the  dining-table  to  eat  them,  but  recollecting 
that  my  mother  might  awake  and  be  alarmed  if  she 
called  without  receiving  an  answer,  I  returned  with  my 


304  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

supper  to  my  own  room.  Having  bolted  my  door  rather 
from  habit  than  prudence,  I  sat  down  with  a  good  appe- 
tite and  commenced  with  alacrity  to  make  an  inroad 
upon  the  excellent  strawberries. 

I  had  long  been  mistress  of  the  establishment,  and  one 
of  the  rules  of  good  housekeeping  which  I  had  found 
the  most  difficult  in  enforcing  had  always  been  the 
retirement  of  the  servants  for  the  night  at  the  same 
time  with  ourselves.  My  instructions  were  that  by 
twelve  o'clock  everyone  in  the  house  should  be  in  bed; 
but  there  were  certain  parties  at  dominoes  and  cards 
which  sometimes  kept  them  up  till  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  I  had  threatened,  and  was  determined,  to 
punish  the  next  infraction  of  my  rule  which  I  should 
detect. 

I  had  been  at  supper  about  ten  minutes,  when  the 
perfect  quiet  of  the  house  was  interrupted  by  a  noise 
below  stairs.  My  suspicions  were  immediately  awakened, 
and  the  idea  that  my  imperial  will  was  again  disobeyed 
put  me  much  out  of  humor.  While  I  was  grumbling 
and  eating,  my  suspicions  were  changed  to  conviction; 
the  noise  of  footsteps,  regular,  light,  and  slow,  as  those 
of  persons  fearing  to  be  heard,  distinctly  reached  my 
ear.  I  was  sure  that  some  persons  were  coming  up  the 
first  flight  of  stone  stairs. 

Determined  to  confront  them  in  the  very  act,  I  noise- 
lessly approached  the  door  of  my  room  which  opened 
upon  the  stairs,  and  was  slowly  and  carefuly  withdraw- 
ing the  bolt,  saying  to  myself,  (<  I  shall  not  this  time  be 
told  that  you  never  sit  up  after  midnight;  it  is  now  one 
by  my  timepiece  w ;  but  wishing  to  make  quite  sure  of 
my  object,  I  held  the  second  bolt  in  my  hand  to  wait 
till  the  whole  procession,  shoes  in  hand  as  I  supposed, 
should  be  in  the  act  of  passing  the  door.  At  this 
moment  a  noise,  which  I  could  compare  to  nothing  but 
a  stroke  upon  a  great  drum,  saluted  my  ears,  and  made 
me  start.  It  came  from  my  mother's  bath,  which  stood 
at  one  corner  of  the  landing. 

Still  more  provoked  by  this  noise,  which  I  feared 
would  wake  my  mother,  I  was  about  to  throw  open  the 
door,  when  I  suddenly  reflected  that  the  servants,  who 
knew  where  the  bath  was,  would  certainly  not  have  suf- 
fered themselves  to  be  betrayed  by  it.  But  if  it  were 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  305 

not  they,  who  could  it  be  ?  This  uncertainty  made  my 
heart  beat  and  so  shook  my  frame  that  I  was  obliged  to 
lean  against  the  doorpost  for  support,  while  I  instinctively 
replaced  the  bolts  I  had  so  imprudently  withdrawn. 
During  this  interval  the  persons  were  mounting  the 
second  staircase;  this  being  of  wood,  I  could  hear 
them  much  more  distinctly  than  before,  and  was  satis- 
fied that  their  shoes  were  much  stouter  and  more  clumsy 
than  those  of  any  of  our  household.  What  was  I  to  do  ! 
Should  I  wake  my  mother  ?  The  consequence  would  cer- 
tainly be  a  frightful  increase  of  her  illness.  I  had  not, 
it  is  true,  any  certainty  that  the  nocturnal  intruders  were 
banditti  but  at  that  time  the  most  horrible  assassina- 
tions were  common,  not  only  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  capital,  but  in  Paris  itself.  These  reflections  passed 
through  my  mind  much  quicker  than  I  can  write  them, 
but  brought  no  counsel  that  promised  relief  from  my 
painful  state  of  apprehension. 

I  listened  long  and  anxiously  for  some  further  noise, 
but  all  was  quiet;  it  was  a  false  alarm,  thought  I,  and 
was  certainly  the  servants;  I  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  and  looked  at  my  timepiece,  thinking  that  an  hour 
at  least  had  passed  while  I  was  upon  the  watch;  how 
much  was  I  surprised  to  find  that  the  hand  had  only  ad- 
vanced ten  minutes!  As  all  was  quiet,  I  proposed  to 
finish  my  supper  and  go  to  bed,  but  I  trembled,  and 
could  scarcely  swallow;  however,  I  ate  my  strawberries, 
and  had  the  last  spoonful  in  my  hand,  when  a  very  dis- 
tinct creaking  and  the  repressed  sounds  of  several  foot- 
steps proved  that  the  persons  I  had  before  heard  were 
now  coming  down  the  second  staircase.  The  noise  was 
not  produced  by  an  alarmed  imagination  —  it  was  real ; 
persons  were  coming  down  stairs  with  precaution,  but  cer- 
tainly coming  down ;  and  I  could  no  longer  flatter  myself 
that  it  was  the  servants. 

On  reaching  the  landing  place  between  my  door  and 
that  of  the  dining-room,  two  persons  sat  down  on  the 
steps  of  the  staircase  and  began  to  converse  in  an  under- 
tone. Trembling  from  head  to  foot,  I,  however,  again 
approached  the  door,  and,  listening,  heard  a  few  broken 
sentences,  from  which  I  gathered  that  they  believed  Al- 
bert to  be  in  the  country;  something,  too,  I  heard  of 
the  impenetrable  locks  of  La  Dru,  two  of  which  fastened 


306  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

his  door,  and  something  of  its  being  useless  to  break  into 
my  mother's  room.  Beyond  this  I  could  only  collect  the 
broken  words  —  <(  late  »  -  -  «  daybreak  w  -  -  (( mother  w  - 
w  nothing  here  w  —  <(  upstairs  w  — <(  the  young  one's  door. w 
Something  was  said  in  reply,  and  the  answer,  <(  Well, 
let  us  try ! M  accompanied  by  the  sound  of  several  pieces 
of  iron,  gently  laid  down  upon  the  stone,  completed  my 
terror.  I  considered  a  moment  whether  I  had  not  for- 
gotten to  shut  the  dining-room  door,  by  which  an  entry 
would  be  offered  to  the  whole  suite  of  apartments. 

I  looked  round,  and  the  sight  of  the  key  lying  upon 
my  table  just  afforded  me  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
determine  how  to  act;  it  was  manifest  they  were  en- 
deavoring to  open  that  door;  its  resistance  could  not  be 
long.  To  wake  my  mother  was  now  indispensable,  and  I 
did  so  with  all  the  precaution  I  was  capable  of.  But  I 
could  not  secure  her  against  alarm ;  and  I  had  no  sooner 
pronounced  the  word  (<  thieves,  *  than  with  her  usual  pre- 
cipitation she  seized  the  three  bell-pulls  which  were  sus- 
pended by  her  bed,  and  pulled  them  all  together,  scream- 
ing at  the  same  time  with  all  her  strength. 

(<  Oh,  recollect  Albert !  You  will  be  his  death !  w  I  ex- 
claimed, convinced  that  the  first  sound  of  her  bell  would 
bring  him  out  quite  unprepared  to  meet  the  attack  of 
assassins;  but  while  I  was  making  these  reflections,  and 
endeavoring  to  hush  her  screams,  I  heard  the  villains 
run  off,  and  from  the  continued  sound  of  hurried  steps 
on  the  stairs  felt  convinced  that  some  of  them  had  been 
left  to  pursue  their  attempts  upon  my  brother's  patent 
locks,  while  the  two  had  been  consulting  near  my  door 
u.pon  their  ulterior  operations. 

The  first  sound  of  the  bell  had  alarmed  them,  and  they 
were  now  in  hasty  retreat.  I  ran  to  my  window,  which 
overlooked  our  court,  and  while  I  screamed  loudly  for 
help,  to  disturb  the  coachman  and  neighbors,  saw  the  last 
two  of  the  thieves  jumping  from  our  wall  into  the  great 
timber  yard,  then  in  the  Rue  Joubert,  and  which  sep- 
arated our  house  from  that  of  M.  de  Caulaincourt. 

Meanwhile  my  mother  continued  to  ring  and  call,  and 
the  family  were  soon  moving;  my  brother,  on  opening 
his  door,  found  a  centerbit  introduced  just  below  the 
first  bolt,  and  some  progress  already  made  in  working  it ; 
but  the  landing  before  my  door  was  a  perfect  arsenal; 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  307 

there  lay  two  more  centerbits,  a  crowbar,  several  iron 
hooks  to  serve  for  picklocks,  and  two  or  three  keys.  My 
brother  put  on  his  greatcoat,  and  went  out  to  alarm  the 
police.  The  gate  of  the  timber  yard  was  found  open, 
and  a  ladder  against  our  wall;  but  no  further  trace  of 
the  robbers  was  discovered.  It  was  morning  when  he 
returned;  he  found  my  mother  better  than  could  be 
expected,  but  distracted  on  my  account.  I  had  received 
a  shock,  the  immediate  effect  of  which  was  terrible,  and 
threatened  to  be  lasting. 

I  was  seized  with  a  fever,  which  brought  on  delirium; 
the  impression  of  the  thieves  on  the  landing  was  always 
vividly  before  me,  and  the  idea  that  they  were  murder- 
ing me,  and  that  my  poor  mother  would  wake  in  the 
midst  of  assassins,  covered  with  the  blood  of  her  child, 
was  for  a  length  of  time  never  absent  from  my  mind. 
They  feared  for  my  life,  or  at  least  for  my  reason.  I  was 
conducted  from  place  to  place,  every  effort  to  divert  me 
was  tried,  and  my  own  exertions  assisting  the  affectionate 
attentions  of  those  around  me,  my  health  improved;  and 
though  for  a  long  time  I  was  the  greatest  coward  imagin- 
able, and  have  always  continued  unreasonably  timid,  I 
am  now  able  to  rally  my  thoughts,  and  to  exert  some 
presence  of  mind,  even  in  circumstances  of  actual 
danger. 

(<  There,  sire,w  said  I  to  the  Emperor,  on  concluding 
this  history  (it  was  in  the  year  1806),  (<  is  the  true  cause 
of  my  cowardice  which  you  were  inquiring  about.  I  am 
not  now  so  foolish  as  to  be  unable,  like  a  child  of  six 
years  old,  to  remain  for  a  moment  in  the  dark ;  but  my 
nervous  system  continues  painfully  affected  by  the  con- 
sequences of  this  fright.  Neither  reason  nor  any  effort 
of  mind  can  remove  the  impression  which  the  idea  of 
what  would  have  been  the  consequence  had  I  remained 
in  the  dining-room  to  eat  my  strawberries  has  produced. n 
And  though  six  years  had  elapsed  since  that  terrible  night, 
the  Emperor  observed  me  turn  pale,  and  said  so. 

\I  assure  Your  Majesty  that  the  same  impression  has 
often  happened  to  me  after  this  event,  when  I  have  only 
had  occasion  to  cross  that  fearful  landing  place. n  w  It  is 
strange,"  said  the  Emperor,  and  began  to  pace  the  room. 

The  Emperor,  after  continuing  his  walk  some  time, 
and  when  other  recollections  had  superseded  in  my  mind 


308  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

the  history  I  had  related,  suddenly  stopped  opposite  to 
me  and  said,  <(  Has  not  this  adventure  given  you  a  great 
antipathy  to  strawberries  ?  * 

For  a  few  seconds  I  made  no  answer,  and  then  said 
((No,  sire;  I  am,  on  the  contrary,  passionately  fond  of 
them. *  c(  That  is  the  nature  of  women,  *  said  he ;  (<  danger 
attracts  them." 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

Lucien's  Republicanism,  and  a  Remarkable  Conversation  with  Him 
after  the  Conspiracy  of  Ceracchi  —  The  Explanation  of  Lucien's  Em- 
bassy to  Spain  —  The  Consul  of  the  Year  VIII.  and  the  Consul  of  the 
Year  IX. —  Bonaparte's  Observation  to  Junot  on  the  Occasion  of  My 
Marriage  and  the  Conspiracy  —  Junot's  Family  —  My  Brother's  Gener- 
osity, and  the  Delicacy  of  His  Conduct  toward  Me  —  M.  Lequien  de 
Bois-Cressy  —  Signature  of  My  Marriage  Contract  by  the  First  Con- 
sul, and  Singular  Recollections  —  Goodness  of  Bonaparte  toward 
My  Brother  —  M.  Duquesnoy,  Junot's  Friend  —  Accumulated  Diffi- 
culties —  Junot's  Repugnance  to  Be  Married  at  Church  —  My  Deter- 
mination—  Conversation  between  Me  and  Junot  —  My  Brother's 
Intervention,  and  My  Marriage  at  Church  Agreed  to  by  Mutual  Con- 
cession —  Junot's  Motives  —  Project  of  a  Nocturnal  Marriage  —  My 
Trousseau  and  Corbeille  —  Junot's  Present  to  My  Mother. 

LUCIEN  came  to  see  us  some  days  after  the  discovery 
of  Arena  and  Ceracchi's  conspiracy;  he  was  thought- 
ful, and  did  not  conceal  that  the  repeated  attempts 
upon  his  brother's  life  caused  him  serious  uneasiness. 
This  was  the  third  in  the  course  of  one  year:  the  first 
was  on  the  road  to  Malmaison;  the  second  in  the  Tuil- 
eries.  "How,*  said  he,  "can  such  strokes  be  averted? 
Jacques  Clement,  Ravaillac,  Damiens,  Jean  Chatel*- 
all  these  men  executed  their  projects,  because,  in  form- 
ing them,  they  held  their  own  lives  as  nothing.  If 
Ceracchi  had  been  alone,  as  was  his  original  intention, 
my  brother  had  been  no  more;  but  he  thought,  by  tak- 
ing associates,  to  make  his  success  more  certain;  he  de- 
ceived himself.*  "But,*  observed  my  mother,  "your 
reflections  are  alarming;  for  how,  then,  can  your  brother 

*  Clement  assassinated  Henry  III.,  Ravaillac  Henry  IV. ,  Damiens 
attempted  the  life  of  Louis  XV.,  and  Chatel  or  Chastel  attempted  that  of 
Henry  IV. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  309 

be  protected  ?w  (<  He  only  can  protect  himself,"  replied 
Lucien.  "  He  is  the  son  of  the  Revolution ;  he  must 
march  in  the  principles  it  has  consecrated;  above  all 
things,  he  must  forbear  any  attempt  against  the  liberty 
of  the  citizens.  His  route  is  marked  out ;  he  must  follow 
it,  or  he  is  lost,  and  we  are  lost  with  him.  My  brother 
knows  me,  and  Junot  and  all  who  are  about  him  know 
that  I  never  cease  to  recall  to  his  mind,  with  all  the 
energy  of  a  French  and  free  soul,  the  solemn  engage- 
ments which  he  contracted  with  the  nation  on  the  i9th 
Brumaire,  and  of  which  I  am  the  guarantee. w 

Then,  turning  toward  Junot,  he  added:  (<  You  remem- 
ber the  conversation  you  heard  four  days  ago  ?  Well,  I 
shall  always  speak  thus,  and  no  fear  will  make  me  deviate 
from  my  path.  If  the  men  who  surround  my  brother  in 
the  Government  choose  to  assist  him  in  measures  op- 
pressive to  the  country,  I  shall  not  increase  their  number; 
and  on  the  last  day  of  the  liberty  of  the  Republic  I 
shall  go  and  seek  another  country." 

This  conversation  proves  that  Lucien  was  bent  on  op- 
posing Napoleon's  plans  for  a  centralization  of  power. 
That  which  Junot  had  heard  at  Malmaison  was  the  dis- 
cussion of  many  regulations  relating  to  the  prefects  which 
Lucien  would  not  authorize,  considering  them  too  arbi- 
trary. To  resist  Napoleon  was  to  insure  his  revenge. 
Lucien  was  indeed  his  brother,  but  the  determination  of 
his  character  was  in  all  things  predominant;  and  this 
conversation,  together  with  Lucien's  perseverance  in  re- 
minding his  brother  of  his  promise  of  the  ipth  Brumaire, 
explained  to  me  his  embassy  to  Spain,  which  took  place 
a  few  weeks  afterward. 

Already  the  Consul  of  the  year  ix.  was  contrasted  with 
the  Consul  of  the  year  viii. —  the  General  Bonaparte  of 
Toulon  and  Italy,  founding  republics,  daughters  of 
France,  with  the  General  Bonaparte  seeking  to  concen- 
trate all  the  powers  of  the  State  in  his  own  person. 
Lucien  might  hear  in  my  mother's  salon  reflections  made 
with  a  smile,  in  an  undertone,  by  persons  who  had  not 
faith  enough  in  Republican  vocations  to  believe  that 
Bonaparte  would  support  the  system  he  announced  on 
the  i  pth  Brumaire.  Many  were  even  simple  enough  to 
speak  of  General  Monk  and  Charles  II.  Lucien  heard 
all  this  and  similar  language  from  various  quarters,  and 


3io  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

he  wished  to  prevent,  not  the  evil  only,  but  the  suspicion 
of  it. 

When  tranquillity  was  restored  by  the  arrest  of  the 
other  conspirators  (Topino-Lebrun,  Demerville,  etc.),  the 
ceremony  of  my  marriage  was  hastened.  The  First  Con- 
sul had  said  to  Junot,  ((  Do  you  know  that  your  marriage 
has  been  held  by  a  very  slender  thread,  my  poor  Junot  ? 
For  I  believe  if  these  rascals  had  killed  me,  the  alliance 
with  you  would  have  been  little  cared  for.  *  Bonaparte 
would  not  have  uttered  such  a  sentiment  three  or  four 
years  before;  but  on  attaining  absolute  power  he  took 
up  an  idea  which  was  perhaps  the  cause  of  his  ruin,  but 
to  which  he  always  attached  great  importance,  that  men 
are  governed  and  led  by  motives  of  interest  or  fear. 

On  the  27th  of  October  all  the  family  of  Junot  arrived 
at  Paris,  and  were  presented  to  my  mother;  and  never 
till  this  day  had  I  duly  appreciated  the  virtues  of  his 
heart.  Sensible  of  the  wide  difference  which  a  Parisian 
education  and  constant  intercourse  with  the  best  society 
of  Paris  made  between  our  manners  and  those  of  his 
mother  and  sister,  who  knew  nothing  beyond  the  towns 
of  Burgundy,  he  dreaded  to  perceive  in  me  a  contemptuous 
ridicule,  which  would  have  rendered  him  miserable ;  and 
never  shall  I  forget  the  expression  of  tenderness  and  re- 
spect with  which  he  presented  his  mother  to  mine,  and 
the  action  which  seemed  to  entreat,  though  he  never 
used  the  words,  that  I  would  be  a  daughter  to  his  par- 
ents. He  had  no  reason  to  fear.  They  were  too  good 
and  too  respectable  not  to  demand  and  to  secure  my 
duty  and  love. 

The  next  day  the  marriage  contract  was  signed,  and  it 
was  not  till  that  moment  that  I  learned  that  my  brother, 
from  his  own  means,  endowed  me  with  60,000  francs,  in 
satisfaction,  as  the  marriage  settlement  expressed  it,  of 
my  claims  on  the  paternal  inheritance.  My  claims !  when 
we  all  knew  that  none  of  my  father's  property  ever  had 
been  or  ever  would  be  realized;  the  greater  part  of  it 
was  in  the  English  funds;  but  it  would  not  have  been 
agreeable  to  General  Junot  to  receive  my  dower  as  a  gift 
from  my  brother,  and  therefore  this  clause  was  intro- 
duced. Fifty  thousand  francs  more  were  added  by  M. 
Lequien  de  Bois-Cressy,  an  old  friend  of  my  father,  and 
who  was  to  be  my  mother's  second  husband ;  he  gave  me 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  311 

his  dower  as  his  future  stepdaughter,  secured  upon  an 
estate  in  Brittany.  He  was  rich  and  liberal;  I  was  not, 
therefore,  surprised  at  this  present ;  but  that  my  brother, 
who,  from  the  proceeds  of  his  own  industry,  had  main- 
tained my  mother's  house,  and  furnished  my  expensive 
education,  should  now  act  so  generously,  was  even  more 
than  my  gratitude  could  express;  nor  was  this  lessened 
by  the  affectionate  terms  in  which  he  replied  to  my  in- 
sufficient thanks. 

*  Do  not  speak  thus, "  said  he,  embracing  me  with  that 
fraternal  tenderness  which  he  had  always  shown  me ;  <(  do 
you  not  know  that  my  mother  and  yourself  are  the  sole 
objects  of  my  affection  and  of  my  happiness?  I  live  only 
for  you.  It  is,  then,  quite  natural  that  the  produce  of 
my  labors  should  be  employed  for  your  benefit.  A  great 
and  an  unhoped-for  marriage  is  offered  you ;  the  money  is 
my  own,  and  how  could  I  dispose  of  it  better  than  in 
making  your  fortune  some  way  proportionate  to  the 
establishment  you  are  about  to  form? w 

A  circumstance  arising  out  of  this  will  show  the  First 
Consul's  prodigious  memory,  even  in  matters  of  the 
smallest  importance  to  himself.  The  following  day,  the 
29th  of  October,  Junot,  accompanied  by  my  brother  as 
my  nearest  relation,  attended  at  the  Tuileries  for  the 
signature  of  the  marriage  contract.  The  First  Consul 
received  my  brother  with  great  kindness,  questioned  him 
upon  his  prospects  and  his  intentions,  spoke  of  my 
mother'  with  friendship,  and  of  me  with  an  interest 
which  affected  me  much  when  Albert  repeated  the  con- 
versation. 

But  for  the  singular  part  of  the  interview:  he  desired 
the  contract  to  be  read  to  him.  When  the  60,000  francs 
from  my  paternal  inheritance  were  named,  he  made 
a  movement  indicative  of  surprise,  and  another,  though 
less  marked,  at  the  mention  of  the  50,000  francs  of 
M.  de  Bois-Cressy,  but  made  no  remark  upon  either. 
When  the  reading  was  completed,  he  took  my  brother 
by  the  arm,  led  him  to  the  recess  of  a  window,  and  said 
to  him,  <(  Permon,  I  remember  that  when  your  father 
died  he  left  nothing.  At  that  period  I  visited  your 
mother  daily,  and  you  no  doubt  know,"  added  he,  with 
an  embarrassed  air,  (<  that  at  the  same  time  I  was  desir- 
ous of  marrying  you  to  my  sister,  Madame  Leclerc,  and 


312  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

of  arranging  the  future  marriage  of  Mademoiselle  Loulou 
with  that  mauvais  snj'ef,  my  brother  Jerome. w  ( He  did 
not  speak  of  the  principal  marriag-e  he  planned  at  that 
period ! )  <(  Well,  Madame  Permon  then  told  me  that  her 
husband  left  nothing.  What,  then,  does  this  mean  ? w 

Albert  repeated  to  the  First  Consul  what  he  had  al- 
ready said  to  me,  entreating  him  not  to  mention  it. 
Napoleon  looked  at  him  with  an  indefinable  expression, 
and  said,  <(  You  are  a  g-enerous  fellow,  my  dear  Permon ; 
you  are  a  generous  fellow ;  I  shall  take  care  of  you.  But 
you  allow  yourself  to  be  forgotten.  Why  do  you  never 
come  to  the  Tuileries  ?  Your  brother-in-law  will  now 
remind  you  of  me,  and  will  also  remind  me  of  you.* 
Accordingly,  a  few  days  afterward,  Junot  solicited  for 
Albert  a  situation  in  which  he  might  give  proofs  of  his 
attachment  to  the  cause  of  the  gth  of  November,  and 
the  First  Consul  appointed  him  to  one  of  the  three  then  ex- 
isting posts  of  Commissary-General  of  the  police  of  France. 

The  day  preceding  my  marriage,  a  circumstance  at 
once  trifling  and  serious  had  nearly  caused  its  rupture. 
A  friend  of  Junot's,  M.  Duquesnoy,  was  Mayor  of  the  yth 
arrondissement ;  the  General,  as  Commandant  of  Paris,  not 
belonging  more  to  one  mayoralty  than  another,  wished  his 
marriage  to  be  performed  before  M.  Duquesnoy;  and  he 
inquired  of  my  mother  whether  she  supposed  it  would 
make  any  difference  to  me.  My  mother  replied  that  she 
was  herself  perfectly  willing,  and  did  not  believe  that  I 
should  be  otherwise,  but  that  she  would  send  for  me  to 
answer  for  myself.  On  General  Junot's  putting  his  re- 
quest to  me,  I  answered,  that  in  this,  as  in  everything 
else,  my  mother  was  mistress  of  my  actions  on  so  solemn 
a  day.  I  only  observed  that  the  distance  to  the  mayor- 
alty of  M.  Duquesnoy  in  the  Rue  de  Jouy,  Quartier  Saint 
Antoine,  was  long,  and  that  I  should  not  fear  fatiguing 
my  mother  if  it  were  no  farther  off  than  our  church  of 
St.  Louis,  which,  being  at  the  extremity  of  the  Rue 
Thiroux,  was  directly  opposite  our  house.  I  did  not  at 
that  moment  remark  General  Junot's  astonishment;  but, 
having  embraced  my  mother,  left  the  room. 

I  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  General  asked  my  mother 
if  I  expected  to  be  married  at  church. 

<(  To  be  married  at  church ! }>  she  cried ;  <(  where,  then, 
would  you  have  her  expect  to  be  married  ?  Before  your 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  313 

friend  with  the  scarf,  I  suppose  ?  But,  my  dear  boy,  you 
have  surely  lost  your  wits.  How  could  you  entertain  the 
idea  that  not  my  daughter  only,  but  myself  and  her 
brother,  could  consent  to  a  purely  civil  marriage  ?  As  for 
Laurette,  I  promise  you  she  is  capable  of  thanking  you 
for  your  intentions  if  you  should  propose  this  to  her !  " 
General  Junot  walked  about  much  agitated.  « Will  you 
permit  me  to  speak  upon  the  subject  to  Mademoiselle 
Laurette  in  private  ?  Situated  as  we  now  are,  there  can 
be  no  objection  to  my  request.* 

My  mother  shrugged  her  shoulders.  w  You  know  not 
what  you  are  talking  of, w  said  she ;  <(  until  you  become  her 
husband,  you  are  but  a  stranger,  and  what  you  wish  to 
say  is  not  likely  to  make  her  your  friend:  why  do  you 
want  to  make  a  secret  of  it  ?  Why  am  I  not  to  be 
present  ? w  <(  Because  calmness  is  necessary  in  treating  of 
such  a  matter;  but  I  can  speak  to  Mademoiselle  Laurette 
here,  with  the  door  of  your  chamber  open." 

I  was  called:  nothing  could  exceed  my  astonishment, 
my  grief  I  may  say,  in  hearing  this  strange  proposition. 
I  did  not  conceal  it :  the  General  replied  that,  situated  as  he 
was,  it  was  impossible  he  could  be  married  at  church,  <(  to 
make  a  show  of  myself, *  added  he;  "for  you  could  not 
prevent  all  the  beggars  and  low  people  of  the  Chausse"e 
d'Antin  from  surrounding  the  house,  and  even  filling  the 
church.  AndjI  am  to  appear  in  uniform  amid  such  a  crowd !" 

<(I  do  not  know,*  I  answered,  *  what  you  should  find 
disagreeable  in  being  seen  to  perform  an  act  which  is  the 
duty  of  every  Christian  (I  am  not  speaking  as  a  devotee), 
in  entering  upon  the  engagements  which  we  propose  to 
take  upon  ourselves  to-morrow.  The  very  Pagans  sought 
the  sanction  of  this  act,  the  most  important  of  their  lives, 
in  the  temples  of  their  gods.  The  Turks  only  are  content 
with  the  Cadi,  and  I  hope  it  is  not  from  them  you  have 
taken  arguments  in  support  of  your  extraordinary  prop- 
osition. }>  (<  I  am  much  hurt  by  your  obstinacy, w  said 
Junot;  "how  can  you,  with  your  sense,  persist  in  a 
formality  which  your  education  ought  to  have  taught  you 
to  consider  a  nullity  ? M 

<(  I  am  very  young,  General,  to  discuss  so  serious  a 
question.  I  understand  nothing  of  the  controversy,  ex- 
cept that  I  was  born  in  the  Christian  religion,  and  that, 
very  certainly,  I  shall  not  stir  a  step  from  this  house  if 


3H  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

it  be  not  to  go  where  my  duty  calls  me.  Be  assured, 
General,  that  notwithstanding  the  advanced  state  of  the 
preparations,  our  marriage  will  not  take  place  unless  the 
Church  shall  bless  it.8 

I  stood  up  to  go  away.  The  General  took  my  hand, 
and  saw  that  my  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  He  stamped 
his  foot  with  violence,  and  let  slip  a  very  unusual  ex- 
pression. <(  Junot!  Junot!"  cried  my  mother  from  her 
chamber,  where  she  heard  all  that  passed  —  <(Junot!  is 
that  proper  language  to  use?* 

<(You  afflict  me  greatly, "  said  the  General.  (<  It  dis- 
tresses me  to  give  you  pain;  but,  after  all,  this  is  a  mere 
childish  whim  on  your  part,  which  you  persist  in  because 
you  have  been  told  to  do  so;  while  to  me  it  is  a  matter 
of  serious  consequence.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  nothing 
less  than  a  confession  of  faith?  * 

(<  And  suppose  it  is?"  said  I;  "what  was  the  religion 
of  your  fathers?  You  have  been  baptized,  you  have  been 
confirmed,  you  have  received  your  first  communion,  you 
have  confessed :  here,  then,  are  four  sacraments  of  which 
you  have  partaken,  and  when  that  of  marriage  comes  in 
its  course,  suddenly  you  turn  renegade,  apostate,  per- 
haps! No,  no,  General,  it  must  not  be." 

Having  said  this  I  went  to  my  mother's  room,  where 
I  found  my  brother.  Junot  followed  me,  and  addressing 
himself  to  Albert,  submitted  to  him  the  question  which 
caused  this  debate;  he  was  in  despair;  what  I  insisted 
upon  was  of  no  importance  whatever,  he  said,  and  would 
seriously  compromise  him.  <(  Well !  "  said  I,  standing  up, 
(<  I  can  say  no  more  upon  the  subject,  of  which  I  ought 
never  to  have  permitted  the  discussion.  I  only  regret 
that  General  Junot  should  for  a  moment  have  believed 
that  my  principles  would  suffer  me  to  accede  to  the 
proposition  he  has  this  morning  made." 

I  retired  to  my  chamber,  and  was  just  then  informed 
that  Mademoiselle  L'Olive  and  Mademoiselle  de  Beuvry 
were  in  the  salon,  and  that  they  had  brought  in  two 
coaches  the  articles  which  composed  my  trousseau  and 
corbeille;  *  the  two  baskets  which  were  to  contain  them 

*  We  have  no  words  exactly  synonymous  with  these ;  both  signify  the 
bridal  paraphernalia.  The  (<  trousseau  w  is  that  part  of  it  which  is  fur- 
nished by  the  bride's  family.  The  (<  corbeille M  is  the  bridegroom's 
present. — TRANSLATOR. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  315 

followed  on  a  truck  —  that  of  the  trousseau,  in  particular, 
was  so  large  that  no  coach  could  contain  it. 

I  sent  to  request  my  brother's  presence,  and  he  came 
to  me  immediately.  <(  My  dear  Albert,"  said  I  to  him, 
<(  this  affair  will  become  serious  if  the  intervention  of 
your  friendship  and  excellent  sense  does  not  prevent  it. 
Not  that  I  request  your  advice,  because  my  resolution  is 
irrevocably  taken,  and  if  General  Junot  is  equally  deter- 
mined a  rupture  is  inevitable;  to  you,  therefore,  I  refer 
to  render  it  as  little  as  possible  painful  to  our  poor 
mother.  The  blow  will  be  terrible  to  her.w 

Albert  took  my  two  hands  in  his  and  embraced  me 
tenderly,  wiping  away  my  tears,  which  flowed  abun- 
dantly. He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  in  silent  medi- 
tation, then  stopped  some  time  before  the  window;  my 
maid,  Josephine,  came  to  require  my  attendance  in  my 
mother's  room.  <(  I  cannot  go,w  said  I  to  Albert;  and  I 
begged  him  to  go  to  my  mother,  whose  apartment  was 
only  separated  from  mine  by  a  very  small  drawing-room, 
which  had  no  door  toward  my  chamber.  He  went,  and 
I  had  scarcely  been  ten  minutes  alone  when  my  mother's 
room  door  opened,  and  she  came  to  me.  w  My  child,  ° 
she  said,  "here  is  one  who  does  not  ask  your  pardon, 
which,  nevertheless,  I  hope  you  will  grant. w 

Those  who  were  well  acquainted  with  General  Junot 
know  how  much  the  expression  of  his  countenance  varied 
when  he  was  particularly  agitated.  At  this  moment  he 
was  scarcely  recognizable;  he  advanced  behind  my 
mother,  leaning  on  Albert's  arm,  changing  color  so 
rapidly  that  he  appeared  to  be  ill.  <(  Your  brother, "  said 
he,  (<  has  been  showing  me  how  much  I  have  distressed 
you;  he  will  now  explain  to  you  that  I  am  not  so  much 
to  blame  as  you  may  suppose;  and  if  you  will  take  into 
consideration  the  character  of  a  soldier  full  of  honor  and 
frankness,  but  who  could  not  entertain  the  same  ideas 
with  you  upon  the  subject  we  have  been  discussing,  you 
will  be  indulgent  and  pardon  me." 

My  brother  then  affectionately  taking  my  hand,  and 
holding  his  other  hand  to  Junot,  said  to  me :  (<  Our 
friend  has  been  explaining  to  me  that  being  the  Com- 
mandant of  Paris,  and  invested  with  the  confidence  of 
the  First  Consul,  he  objects  to  appearing  in  open  day  on 
an  occasion  so  solemn  as  his  marriage,  to  perform  in  a 


316  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

church  a  sacred  act  of  religion,  because,  on  account  of 
his  political  position,  it  would  make  him  a  sort  of  a  spec- 
tacle to  the  whole  town.  You  know  me,  my  sister;  you 
know  that  my  heart  is  devoted  to  you  and  to  honor. 
Well,  after  what  he  has  said,  I  have  engaged  to  persuade 
you  to  comply  with  his  wishes.  The  General  does  not 
desire  to  wound  any  of  your  religious  convictions;  he 
acknowledges  that  you  are  right  in  requiring  the  religious 
ceremony,  but  he  requests  that  it  may  take  place  at 
night.  I  believe  that  this  mutual  concession  will  remove 
all  obstacles  on  both  sides. M 

I  looked  at  my  mother,  and  receiving  a  sign  of  appro- 
bation from  her,  had  nothing  further  to  object  except 
my  dislike  to  a  nocturnal  ceremony.  It  recalled  those 
days  of  terror  when  the  bridal  pair  received  by  stealth 
the  benediction  which  the  priest  accorded  at  the  risk  of  his 
life.  It  was  necessary,  however,  to  be-  reasonable ;  and 
I  consented,  as  my  mother  and  brother  approved  it,  that 
the  ceremony  should  take  place  in  the  manner  pro- 
posed. 

I  afterward  learned  that  this  sudden  opposition  was 
caused  by  the  First  Consul.  This  may  appear  extraordi- 
nary to  those  who  remember  that  two  years  afterward 
he  signed  the  Concordat;  but  all  fruits  do  not  ripen  in 
one  season.  He  had  just  escaped  from  the  dagger  of  a 
man  who  accused  him  of  attempting  to  overturn  the  in- 
stitutions of  Republicanism,  and  he  was  not  willing  that 
the  Commandant  of  Paris,  known  to  possess  his  entire 
confidence,  should  perform  a  public  act  which  might  point 
to  a  new  system  of  action  on  the  part  of  his  patron.  He 
therefore  particularly  required  of  Junot  that  he  should 
only  go  to  church  at  night,  supposing  the  family  to  insist 
upon  the  religious  ceremony.  Junot,  in  his  zeal  to  obey, 
exceeded  his  instructions.  His  religious  notions — hav- 
ing passed  his  youth  in  an  army  where  none  such  ex- 
isted—  were  not  those  of  incredulity,  but  of  perfect  in- 
difference, and  he  had  no  suspicion  of  the  effect  his 
proposition  would  have  upon  me;  in  the  first  instance, 
then,  he  did  not  even  speak  of  a  nocturnal  marriage,  which 
in  fact  supplied  all  the  conditions  absolutely  required  by 
either  party. 

<(  At  length,  then,"  said  my  mother,  when  she  had 
heard  me  pronounce  my  consent,  <(this  grand  affair  is 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  317 

settled  w ;  and  turning  to  Junot,  she  added,  <(  It  has  been 
all  your  fault.  Who  would  ever  have  thought  of  coming 
on  the  eve  of  the  marriage  to  say  *  I  will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Church?*  Come,  fall  on  your  knees,  and 
beg  pardon  of  your  betrothed.  Right.  Now  give  him 
your  hand,  or  rather  your  cheek,  in  recompense  of  that 
graceful  act  of  submission.  It  is  the  last;  to-morrow  he 
will  be  your  master.  But  what  now,  is  it  not  all  set- 
tled? » 

The  fact  was  that  this  nocturnal  ceremony,  which  did 
not  please  me  at  all,  had  moreover  the  inconvenience 
that  it  would  be  unaccompanied  by  a  wedding  mass;  I 
whispered  this  new  objection  to  the  General,  and  it  was 
presently  removed  by  the  promise  that  it  should  take 
place  at  twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  midnight  mass.  My 
mother  laughed  on  overhearing  this  discussion.  "  And 
now  that  we  are  all  at  length  agreed, w  said  she,  (<  do  me  the 
favor,  Monsieur  my  son-in-law,  to  take  your  leave  for 
the  present;  I  must  show  the  young  lady  her  trousseau, 
and  hear  her  opinion  of  my  taste ;  we  shall  afterward  both 
sit  in  judgment  upon  yours." 

On  entering  the  salon,  though  it  was  large,  I  found 
myself  much  in  the  situation  of  Noah's  dove,  without  a 
place  of  rest  for  my  foot.  From  an  immense  basket,  or 
rather  portmanteau  of  rose-colored  gros  dc  Naples,  em- 
broidered with  black  chenille,  made  in  the  shape  of  a 
sarcophagus  bearing  my  cipher,  an  innumerable  quantity 
of  small  packets,  tied  with  pink  or  blue  favors,  strewed 
the  room;  these  contained  full-trimmed  chemises  with 
embroidered  sleeves,  pocket  handkerchiefs,  petticoats, 
morning  gowns,  dressing  gowns  of  Indian  muslin,  night- 
dresses, nightcaps,  morningcaps  of  all  colors  and  all 
forms;  the  whole  of  these  articles  were  embroidered,  and 
trimmed  with  Mechlin  lace  or  English  point.  Another 
portmanteau  of  equal  size,  of  green  silk  embroidered  in 
orange  chenille,  contained  my  numerous  dresses,  all 
worthy  in  fashion  and  taste  to  vie  with  the  habiliments 
already  described. 

This  was  an  hour  of  magic  for  a  girl  of  sixteen.  Time 
passes  away;  mature  years  have  already  arrived;  old  age 
will  follow;  but  never  can  the  remembrance  of  my 
mother  as  she  now  appeared  be  effaced  from  my  mind. 
How  eagerly  did  she  watch  my  eyes;  and  when  the 


3i8  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

peculiar  elegance  and  good  taste  of  any  article  of  her 
own  choice  elicited  my  admiring  exclamations,  how  did 
her  fine  black  eyes  sparkle,  and  her  smiling  rosy  lips 
display  the  pearls  they  inclosed!  Who  can  describe  a 
mother's  joy  on  such  an  occasion,  or  the  effect  it  pro- 
duces on  the  heart  of  an  affectionate  daughter!  Taking 
my  head  between  her  two  hands,  and  kissing  my  eyes, 
my  ears,  my  cheeks,  my  hair,  she  threw  herself  on  a 
settee,  saying,  (<  Come,  now,  mathia  mou*  seek  something 
else  that  will  please  you." 

The  trousseau  being  fully  examined,  the  corbeille  \  next 
demanded  inspection.  At  this  time  the  custom  of  giving 
a  basket  or  case  for  the  articles  of  the  corbeille  was  not 
yet  exploded;  fifty  or  sixty  louis  were  spent  upon  a 
species  of  basket  covered  with  rich  silk  or  velvet,  and 
highly  ornamented,  which  stood  for  six  or  twelve  months 
on  the  dressing  table  of  the  bride,  till,  becoming  tarnished 
and  worn,  it  was  no  longer  ornamental,  and  was  con- 
signed to  the  lumber  room,  to  be  eaten  by  the  rats  in 
spite  of  its  finery.  Now  they  do  things  with  more  sense, 
and  lay  out  the  money  upon  a  valuable  chest  of  longer 
duration.  Mine,  then,  was  an  immensely  large  vase, 
covered  with  green  and  white  velvet,  richly  embroidered 
with  gold.  Its  foot  was  of  gilded  bronze;  its  cover  of 
embroidered  velvet,  surmounted  by  a  pineapple  of  black 
velvet,  transfixed  by  an  arrow,  from  which  were  sus- 
pended on  each  side  a  crown,  the  one  of  olives,  the  other 
of  laurel,  both  cut  in  bronzed  gold. 

This  corbeille  contained  cashmere  shawls,  veils  of  Eng- 
lish point,  gown  trimmings  of  blond  and  Brussels  point, 
dresses  of  white  blond  and  black  lace;  pieces  of  Indian 
muslin  and  of  Turkish  velvet  which  the  General  had 
brought  from  Egypt;  ball  dresses  for  a  bride;  my  pre- 
sentation dress,  and  Indian  muslin  dresses  embroidered 
in  silver  lama.  Besides  all  these,  there  were  flowers 
bought  of  Madame  Roux,  of  Lyons;  ribbons  of  all  sizes 
and  colors;  bags  (or  as  we  now  say,  reticules),  which 
were  then  all  the  fashion,  one  of  them  of  English  point; 

*  Greek  words,  meaning  light  of  my  eyes;  a  most  caressing  expres- 
sion, which  my  mother  habitually  used  toward  me. 

f  Mademoiselle  L'Olive,  being  dressmaker  to  Madame  Bonaparte, 
had  been  charged  by  Junot  to  prepare  the  corbeille,  under  the  instruc- 
tions of  Madame  Murat. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  319 

gloves,  fans,  and  essences.  At  each  side  of  the  corbeille 
was  a  (< sultan,"  or  scented  bag. 

The  first  contained  all  the  implements  of  the  toilet 
in  gold  enameled  black;  the  apparatus  of  the  work- 
table —  thimble,  scissors,  needlecase,  bodkin,  etc.,  all  in 
gold,  set  with  fine  pearls.  The  other  w  sultan  °  con- 
tained the  jewel  casket,  and  an  opera  glass  of  mother-of- 
pearl  and  gold  set  with  two  rows  of  diamonds.  The 
casket  contained  settings  for  an  entire  suite  of  ornaments 
without  the  stones ;  six  ears  of  golden  corn  and  a  comb 
(which,  on  account  of  the  immense  quantity  of  my  hair, 
was  as  large  as  those  which  are  now  worn),  set  with 
diamonds  and  pearls ;  a  square  medallion  set  with  large 
pearls,  containing  a  portrait  of  General  Junot  by  Isabey, 
for  the  resemblance  of  which  the  artist's  name  will  vouch, 
but  of  a  size  more  fit  to  be  affixed  to  the  wall  of  a  gal- 
lery than  to  be  suspended  from  the  neck;  but  this  was 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  and  Madame  Murat  had  one  of 
her  husband,  also  painted  by  Isabey,  and  even  larger 
than  mine.  The  casket  contained  also  a  number  of  superb 
topazes  brought  from  Egypt,  of  an  incredible  size,  Ori- 
ental eorals  of  extraordinary  thickness,  which  I  have 
since  had  engraved  in  relief  at  Florence  by  M.  Hamelin, 
and  several  antique  cameos;  all  these  were  unset.  The 
bridal  purse  of  gold  links,  connected  together  by  delicate 
little  stars  of  green  enamel,  the  clasp  also  enameled 
green,  contained  too  weighty  a  sum  of  money  had  it 
not  consisted  of  bank  notes,*  except  about  fifty  louis 
in  pretty  little  sequins  of  Venice. 

All  these  elegant  presents  had  been  completed  under 
the  direction  of  Madame  Murat,  and  did  infinite  honor 
to  her  taste.  At  this  time  such  a  corbeille  was  a  treas- 
ure of  great  rarity;  for  the  first  time  since  the  Revolu- 
tion it  had  reappeared  at  the  marriage  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Doudeauville  with  M.  Pierre  de  Rastignac.  Madame 
Murat's  marriage  followed  after  a  considerable  interval, 
and  her  corbeille  was  very  rich ;  but  as  mine  took  place 
nearly  a  year  later,  not  only  was  the  corbeille  more  beau- 
tiful, but  it  was  composed  with  more  conformity  to  an- 
cient customs,  and  in  a  more  refined  taste.  After  this 

*  The  Bank  of  France  was  established  in  the  month  of  February, 
1800;  I  think  it  opened  the  following  month.  The  two  purses  weit 
made  by  Foncier,  a  very  celebrated  jeweler  at  that  period. 


320  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

time  the  corbeille  and  trousseau  again  became  common, 
but  were  copies,  not  models,  like  Madame  Murat's  and 
mine. 

But  of  all  these  beautiful  gifts,  nothing  delighted  me 
so  much  as  Junot's  affecting  attention  to  my  mother. 
She  longed  for  a  cashmere  shawl,  but  would  never  pur- 
chase one,  because  she  said  she  could  not  afford  one  so 
good  as  she  wished  for;  and  I  had  determined  that  my 
wedding  gift  to  her  should  be  a  red  one,  because  that 
was  the  color  she  preferred,  but  I  had  never  whispered 
my  intentions.  However,  together  with  my  corbeille 
came  a  small  basket  covered  with  white  gros  de  Naples, 
embroidered  in  silks  with  my  mother's  cipher  on  the 
draperies,  from  which  the  first  thing  that  presented  it- 
self was  a  superb  scarlet  cashmere  shawl.  The  basket 
contained,  besides,  a  purse  like  mine,  except  that  the 
enamel  was  a  deep  blue,  and  within  it,  instead  of  money, 
was  a  topaz  of  a  perfect  oval  round,  the  size  of  a  small 
apricot;  gloves,  ribands,  and  two  magnificent  fans.  I 
cannot  describe  how  I  felt  this  amiable  attention. 
When  I  thanked  the  General  for  it  with  an  effusion  of 
heart  which  I  rather  repressed  than  exaggerated,  he  re- 
plied, <(  I  foresaw  what  you  now  express ;  and  if  I  had 
not  loved  her  who  is  about  to  become  my  mother  with 
filial  tenderness,  I  should  have  done  what  I  have  for  the 
pleasure  I  enjoy  at  this  moment. w 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

My  Wedding  Day — Sister  Rosalie  and  My  Confessor  —  Refusal  to 
Marry  Me  at  Night — Scruples  —  The  Vendean  Abbe  —  The  Clergy 
and  the  Republican  Party  —  L'Abbe  Lusthier  Patronized  by  Junot, 
and  Appointed  Grand  Vicar  to  the  Bishop  of  Orleans  —  The  Cure  of 
the  Capuchins  Engaged  —  Wedding  Toilet — Family  Assembled  — 
Junot's  Aids-de-Camp,  His  Witnesses  —  The  Dames  de  la  Halle  and 
Their  Bouquet  —  The  Municipality  and  the  Church. 

ON    THE    3oth   of   October,    at   nine    in    the    morning, 
everything  was  in  motion  in  our  small  house  of  the 
Rue     de     Sainte    Croix,    and     earlier     still    in    the 
Hotel  de  Rue  Verneuil.     At  daybreak    I    had  left  home, 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfiS  321 

accompanied  by  Sister  Rosalie  (who  on  hearing  of  my 
approaching  marriage  had  quitted  her  retreat  to  be  with 
me),  to  go  to  my  confessor:  this  ought  to  have  been  done 
on  the  eve  of  my  wedding.  Having  made  my  confes- 
sion, I  requested  the  Venerable  Abbe",  my  spiritual  father, 
to  perform  the  religious  ceremony  of  my  marriage  in 
the  Church  of  the  Capuchins*  at  a  quarter  past  twelve 
at  night;  and  great  was  my  astonishment  at  receiving  a 
dry  and  peremptory  refusal. 

"  What  reason,  *  said  he  emphatically,  "  can  General 
Junot  possibly  have  for  refusing  to  make  you  his  wife  in 
the  light  of  the  sun?  What  does  he  fear?  Ridicule! 
No!  he  has  too  much  good  sense  for  that.  There  must 
be  some  cause  of  objection  unknown  to  us. w  I  turned 
pale;  but  the  Abbe",  in  spite  of  all  Sister  Rosalie's 
entreaties,  proceeded:  "Who  shall  satisfy  me,  who  am 
the  priest  required  to  bless  this  marriage,  that  he  is  not 
already  the  husband  of  another? " 

"Monsieur  1'Abbe"!  Monsieur  1'Abbe*!"  said  Rosalie  in 
a  voice  of  lively  reproach,  of  which  I  should  not  have 
conceived  the  good  girl  capable  toward  any  ecclesiastic  — 
"Monsieur  1'Abbe*,  for  Heaven's  sake  forbear!  What  are 
you  doing? w  "My  duty!"  replied  he  in  a  stern  voice; 
"  I  perform  that  duty  which  nature  and  the  laws  impose 
upon  the  guardians  of  this  young  girl,  and  which  they 
seem  to  have  cast  upon  Providence.  I  then,  as  the  min- 
ister of  God,  of  that  same  Providence,  am  bound  to  watch 
over  the  interest  of  the  fatherless  orphan. )J 

"Monsieur  1'Abbe*,*  said  I,  rising  to  go,  "  my  gratitude 
to  you  is  the  same  as  if  your  charitable  friendship  had 
saved  me  from  a  great  danger;  but  it  is  my  duty  to 
remind  you  that,  whatever  danger  may  threaten  me,  I 
have  a  support,  a  protector,  a  father;  and  that  M.  de 
Permon,  my  brother,  who  unites  all  those  titles,  enlight- 
ened at  once  by  his  tenderness  for  me  and  his  acute 
penetration,  is  capable  of  judging  whether  I  am  deceived 
by  a  man  whose  reputation  for  honor  and  loyalty  stands 
so  high.  I  have  already  explained  to  you,  sir,  the  reason 
why  he  wishes  to  receive  the  nuptial  benediction  at  night." 

"  The  reason  is  injurious  to  you, w  said  the  Abbe",  with 
increasing  anger.  "Why  should  the  Commandant  of  Paris 
fear  to  show  himself  in  uniform  in  one  of  the  churches 

*  Now  the  Church  of  Saint  Louis,  in  the  Rue  de  Sainte  Croix. 

21 


322  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

which  his  General  has  just  reopened  ?  He  would  not 
manifest  the  same  repugnance  to  exhibit  himself  to-mor- 
row in  the  Temple  of  Victory,  now  called  Sulpice,  instead 
of  Saint  Sulpice.*  (This  was,  in  fact,  the  denomination 
now  given  to  Saint  Sulpice,  and  a  fete  was  at  this  very 
time  announced  to  be  held  in  the  Temple  of  Victory 
(Sulpice)  in  commemoration  of  our  ancestors.) 

"  Young  lady,  *  continued  the  good  man,  *  do  not  as- 
sume that  air  of  displeasure ;  it  is  neither  becoming  your 
situation  nor  mine.  Rather  thank  me  for  the  solicitude 
I  feel  for  my  spiritual  child,  for  such  you  are,  my 
daughter;  and  it  grieves  me  to  think  that  you  may  be 
deceived.  Why  should  your  civil  marriage  take  place  in 
the  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine  ?  Why  are  the  banns  not 
published  at  the  church  ?  Why  is  a  nocturnal  celebration 
demanded  ?  The  ceremony  before  the  Mayor  will  take 
place  by  day ;  but  where  ?  at  the  extremity  of  Paris !  in 
an  obscure  quarter,  where,  truly,  a  former  Madame  Junot 
is  not  very  likely  to  suspect  that  a  successor  is  being 
installed  in  her  rights ;  all  this  has  an  ambiguous  appear- 
ance, and  I  shall  not  make  myself  a  party  to  its  execu- 
tion. » 

It  was  equally  vain  to  reason  or  petition;  the  Abb£ 
Lusthier  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  I  could  say,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  depart  without  the  consolation  of  knowing 
that  the  good  father  would  sanction  my  marriage  with 
his  presence;  his  blessing  he  gave  me,  and  prayed  that 
his  presentiments  might  prove  unfounded. 

I  pressed  upon  him  at  my  departure  a  purse  contain- 
ing a  handsome  sum  of  money,  which  my  brother  had 
given  me  for  that  purpose.  I  knew  that  the  Abb6  was, 
very  poor,  and  almost  destitute  of  necessaries;  I  saw  in 
the  garret  where  he  lived  neither  fire  nor  wood,  and  the 
weather  was  already  becoming  cold ;  he,  however,  resisted 
the  offer  repeatedly,  and  even  with  annoyance.  I  would 
not  listen  to  the  refusal,  but  left  the  purse,  saying  that, 
what  he  could  spare  from  his  own  comforts  he  might 
distribute  as  my  almoner. 

Junot  never  heard  of  this  scene  till  it  was  related  to 
him  some  years  afterward  with  the  greatest  frankness, 
by  the  Abbe"  Lusthier  himself,  on  occasion  of  his  calling 
to  request  my  husband  to  obtain  for  him  the  living  of 
Virginie,  a  little  village  near  Bievre.  <(  I  hope  your  fears 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  323 

on  my  account  are  now  at  an  end,"  said  Junot,  smiling, 
and  offering  his  hand  to  him.  (<  I  assure  you,  you  have 
no  occasion  to  retain  any ;  and  to  prove  it  I  shall  request 
Citizen  Portalis  to  appoint  you  to  a  different  benefice 
from  the  one  you  have  solicited.  I  know  from  my  wife 
that  your  fortune  does  not  correspond  either  with  your 
merit  or  your  charity,  and  it  is  my  duty,  if  possible,  to 
repair  the  injustice  of  fate;  and  I  hope,  at  the  same 
time,"  added  he,  laughing,  (<to  prove  that  I  am  innocent; 
for  I  would  not  silence  by  an  obligation  any  person  who 
is  entitled  to  reproach  me." 

The  Abb£  Lusthier  not  only  accepted  General  Junot's 
offers,  but  attached  himself  unreservedly  to  him.  Junot 
obtained  for  him  an  excellent  living  in  the  diocese  of  my 
uncle,  the  Bishop  of  Metz,  and  he  was  some  time 
afterward  appointed  Grand  Vicar  to  his  friend  the  Abbe" 
Bernier,  Bishop  of  Orleans. 

But  to  recur  to  the  interesting  period  from  which  this 
episode  has  led  me.  On  my  return  home  I  related  all 
that  had  passed,  which  excited  my  mother's  displeasure. 
*  I  hope,  *  said  she,  *  you  did  not  leave  him  the  purse. " 
I  looked  at  her  instead  of  answering.  On  meeting  my 
eyes  she  laughed,  half  angrily  and  half  in  jest,  and  said, 
"  So,  I  am  a  simpleton !  And  you  did  leave  him  the 
purse,  did  you  not  ?  *  (<  Certainly, "  I  replied,  embracing 
her.  w  And  you  know  very  well  that  each  piece  of  silver 
which  we  have  given  the  Abbe"  Lusthier  will  acquire  the 
value  of  gold  in  his  hands." 

Albert  then  went  out  to  find  the  Cure*  of  the  Church 
of  the  Capuchins,  gave  him  the  necessary  instructions, 
and  received  his  promise  to  be  ready  at  five  minutes 
past  midnight. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  my  toilet  was  com- 
menced in  which  I  was  to  appear  before  the  Mayor. 
I  wore  an  Indian  muslin  gown,  with  a  train,  high 
body  and  long  sleeves  that  buttoned  at  the  wrist,  and 
which  were  then  called  amadis;  the  whole  was  trimmed 
with  magnificent  point  lace.  My  cap,  made  by  Made- 
moiselle Despaux,  was  of  Brussels  point,  crowned  with  a 
wreath  of  orange  flowers,  from  which  descended  to  my 
feet  a  veil  of  fine  English  point,  large  enough  to  envelop 
my  person.  This  costume,  which  was  adopted  by  all 
young  brides,  differing  only  according  to  the  degree  of 


324  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

wealth  of  the  parties,  was  in  my  opinion  much  more  ele- 
gant than  the  present  bridal  fashion. 

I  do  not  think  that  it  is  prejudice  for  the  past  which 
makes  me  prefer  my  own  wedding  dress  —  that  profusion 
of  rich  lace,  so  fine  and  so  delicate  that  it  resembled  a 
vapory  network,  shading  my  countenance  and  playing 
with  the  curls  of  my  hair;  those  undulating  folds  of  my 
robe,  which  fell  round  my  person  with  the  inimitable 
grace  and  suppleness  of  the  superb  tissues  of  India;  that 
long  veil,  which  in  part  covered  the  form  without  con- 
cealing it — to  the  robe  of  tulle  of  our  modern  brides, 
made  in  the  fashion  of  a  ball  dress,  the  shoulders  and 
bosom  uncovered,  and  the  petticoat  short  enough  to  per- 
mit everyone  to  judge  not  only  of  the  delicacy  of  the 
little  foot,  but  of  the  shape  of  the  ankle  and  leg,*  while 
the  head,  dressed  as  for  a  ball,  is  scarcely  covered  by 
a  veil  of  stiff  and  massy  tulle,  the  folds  of  which  fall 
without  ease  or  grace  around  the  lengthened  waist  and 
shortened  petticoat  of  the  young  bride;  no,  this  is  not 
elegance. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  General  arrived,  with  the  rest  of 
his  family.  His  mother  had  preceded  him  by  half  an 
hour.  This  excellent  woman  had  seen  me  but  twice ;  but 
she  had  made  a  correct  estimate  of  the  mutual  tenderness 
which  subsisted  between  my  mother  and  myself.  Her 
perfect  goodness  of  heart  and  excellent  judgment  had 
inspired  the  thought  of  placing  herself  between  us  at  the 
moment  of  a  separation  which  she  foresaw  would  be  so 
painful.  Alas!  she  knew  at  that  moment  better  than  I 
did  what  were  my  poor  mother's  feelings;  and  I  was  far 
from  understanding  the  full  force  of  the  words  which, 
with  tears  that  could  not  be  restrained,  she  addressed  to 
her,  <(  I  will  supply  your  place  to  her!" 

Andoche  brought  with  him  his  father,  his  brother, 
Madame  Junot,  his  sister-in-law;  Madame  Maldan,  his 


*  Prince  Talleyrand  began  life  by  saying  what  are  called  « witty 
things. w  Being  one  day  present  at  the  Tuileries,  when  several  ladies 
were  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Emperor  on  their  new  appoint- 
ments, he  particularly  noticed  the  beautiful  Madame  de  Marmier,  who 
wore  remarkably  short  petticoats  in  order  to  show  the  delicacy  of  her 
foot  and  ankle.  Some  one  present  asked  Talleyrand  what  he  thought  of 
the  tout  ensemble.  <(I  think,"  said  the  witty  minister,  <(  that  her  dress 
is  too  short  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity. M 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  325 

youngest  sister;  and  two  of  his  aids-de-camp,  of  whom 
General  Lallemand,  then  a  captain,  has  rendered  his  name 
celebrated  by  the  honor  and  fidelity  of  his  conduct.  He 
was  attached  to  the  staff  of  General  Junot  in  Egypt, 
where  he  served  in  the  fine  regiment  of  chasseurs 
of  the  General-in-Chief;  Junot  had  a  high  esteem  for 
him. 

The  other  officer  was  M.  Bardin,  son  of  an  estimable 
painter,  and  himself  a  very  worthy  man.  He  had  wit, 
wrote  pretty  verses  with  ease,  drew  admirably,  and  had 
on  this  occasion  laid  all  his  talents  under  contribution 
for  the  bridegroom's  service.  These  two  gentlemen  were 
the  General's  witnesses;  mine  were  the  Comte  de  Ville- 
manzy,  Peer  of  France,  an  intimate  friend  of  my  father, 
and  M.  Lequien  de  Bois-Cressy;  M.  Brunetiere,  who  had 
been  my  guardian,  now  acted  as  my  father,  together 
with  Albert  and  my  uncle,  Prince  Demetrius  Comnenus, 
who  had  arrived  two  days  previously  from  Munich. 

When  we  set  out  for  the  Rue  de  Jouy,  the  Rue  de 
Sainte  Croix  near  our  house  was  filled  with  people, 
mostly  strangers  in  our  quarter;  and  among  them  nearly 
all  the  principal  Marchandes  de  la  Halle.  Junot  was 
extremely  considerate  to  the  people  of  Paris,  and  was 
very  popular  with  them;  and  I  am  convinced  that  in  a 
commotion  the  mere  sight  of  him  would  have  restored 
tranquillity;  he  was  very  open-handed  to  them,  giving 
alms  very  freely.  He  could,  moreover,  speak  the  language 
of  the  Dames  de  la  Halle  admirably,  when  any  occasion 
arose. 

Four  of  the  group  requested  permission  to  pay  their 
compliments  to  me.  It  was  granted,  and  they  entered 
the  salon  carrying  each  a  bouquet,  certainly  larger  than 
myself,  and  composed  of  the  finest  and  rarest  flowers, 
the  price  of  which  was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  lateness 
of  the  season.  They  offered  them  to  me  with  no  other 
phrase  than  the  following:  tf  Mam'selle,  you  are  about  to 
become  the  wife  of  our  Commandant,  and  we  are  glad 
of  it,  because  you  are  said  to  be  kind  and  good. 
Will  you  permit  us  ? M  And  the  women  embraced  me 
heartily. 

Junot  ordered  some  refreshments  for  all  those  who  had 
been  good  enough,  he  said,  to  remember  him  on  the 
happiest  day  of  his  life.  We  set  out  for  the  municipality 


326  MEMOIRS    OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

amid  their  loud  acclamations  and  the  repeated  cries  of 
*  Loritf  live  the  Bride  and  Bridegroom !  " 

On  arriving  at  the  mayoralty  of  the  Rue  de  Jouy, 
Faubourg  Saint  Antoine,  where  it  was  Junot's  whim  to 
be  married  —  riot,  aH  the  Abbe"  Lusthier  supposed,  to  be 
ICM  in  si^ht,  for  in  this  case  he  would  have  contrived 
his  matters  very  ill,  but  to  gratify  a  friend  —  we  were 
received  and  married  by  M.  Duquesnoi,  Mayor  of  this 
arrondissement.  He  spared  us  a  lon#  discourse,  and  only 
uttered  a  few  well  chosen  words,  which  I  have  never 
forgotten. 

We  returned  to  my  mother's,  and  the  day  passed  off 
much  as  all  similar  days  do.  When  the  hour  of  mid- 
night struck  we  crossed  over  to  the  church,  and  at  one 
by  the  clock  of  the  Corps  Lc^islatif  I  entered  the  Hotel 
fl»:  Montesquieu  to  the  sound  of  the  most  harmonious 
music. 


CHAI'TKR     XLIV. 

A  fiintul  Dinner  at  My  Mother'?*  the  I  >ay  after  My  Marriage  —  Junot's 
KrlendH  find  the  Rest  of  tho  I'arty:  a  Curious  Assemblage  —  Their 
C.liurartorH  and  Portraits  —  (iuncnil  Lannutt,  the  Roland  of  the 
Army  -  I)urr>c  —  HessieroH  —  ICugotio  Beuuharnaitt  —  Rapj>j—  lierthier 
-  Marinont,  tho  Host  Friend  of  Junot  —  Lavalotto  —  His  Marriage  — 
Tho  I)lvorvc  —  Tho  Negro  anrl  the  Canoness  —  Madame  Lavalette's 
Itautity  mid  Ilio  Kavagcn  of  the  Smallpox  —  Tho  Bonaparte  Family 
—  Madame  Haix-iorhl  in  tho  Costume  of  a  Literary  Society  of 


A  1.  1.  who  had  been  ronnectcd  with  Junot  in  the  Army 
of  Italy  or  the  Army  of  Kjjypt  had  special  claims 
upon  his  frirmlship,  and  he  was  desirous  of  giving 
a  dinner  the  day  after  his  marriage  to  ei^lit  or  ten  of 
his  brothren-in-armst.  My  mother,  who  was  always  anxious 
to  make  him  adopt  what  she  called  stylish  habits,  vainly 
remonstrated  about  this  defiance  of  etiquette,  and  said 
that  it  would  resemble  a  journeyman  carpenter  giving 
his  companions  ti  treat  on  his  wedding  holiday.  Junot 
was  linn,  and  my  mother's  only  resource  was  to  invite 
his  friends  herself. 

"Hut  will   they  come  to  me  without  an  introduction?" 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  327 

she  inquired.  Junot  assured  her  that  they  would,  and 
invitations  were  sent  to  Bessieres,  Lannes,  Eugene  Beau- 
harnais,  Rapp,  and  some  others.  Some  of  Junot's  friends, 
Beillard,  Desgenettes,  etc.,  were  not  yet  returned  from 
Egypt ;  but  all  those  who  were  in  Paris  met  at  my  mother's 
table. 

This  dinner  was  extremely  curious  because  it  was  a 
reunion  of  all  parties.  My  mother's  friends  sat  down  be- 
side the  whole  family  of  Bonaparte,  and  the  new  guests 
made  a  very  interesting  accession  to  the  party.  At  this 
time  I  knew  none  of  the  above-mentioned  friends  of  Ju- 
not; I  had  distinguished  their  names  amid  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  people,  when  news  of  some  fresh  triumphs 
arrived;  but  I  was  acquainted  with  no  generals  except 
Moreau,  Macdonald,  and  Beurnonville,  whom  we  had 
frequently  met  at  Madame  Leclerc's.  It  afforded  me  then 
great  satisfaction  to  be  introduced  to  those  men  who  had 
seconded  Bonaparte,  and  had  been  to  him  at  once  good 
comrades  and  good  laborers  in  the  erection  of  that  edifice 
of  glory  under  which  France  now  found  an  asylum  from 
her  distractions. 

General  Lannes  was  also  lately  married.  He  had  been 
more  rapid  than  Junot,  and  had  been  for  three  weeks 
the  husband  of  Mademoiselle  Louise  Gheneuc,  a  young 
person  of  exquisite  beauty.  Lannes  was  then  twenty- 
eight  years  of  age,  five  feet  five  or  six  inches  high, 
slender  and  elegant,  his  feet,  legs  and  hands  being  re- 
markable for  their  symmetry.  His  face  was  not  hand- 
some, but  it  was  expressive;  and  when  his  voice  uttered 
one  of  those  heroic  thoughts  which  had  acquired  for  him 
the  appellation  of  the  Roland  of  the  army,  "  His  eyes," 
said  Junot,  <(  which  now  appear  so  small,  become  im- 
mense, and  dart  flashes  of  lightning." 

Junot  told  me  that  he  looked  upon  Lannes  as,  without 
exception,  the  bravest  man  of  the  army,  because  his 
courage,  invariably  the  same,  neither  received  accession 
nor  suffered  diminution  from  any  of  those  incidents 
which  usually  influence  military  men.  The  same  coolness 
with  which  he  re-entered  his  tent  he  carried  into  the 
midst  of  the  battle,  the  hottest  fire,  and  the  most  difficult 
emergencies.  To  this  invaluable  quality  Junot  consid- 
ered him  to  add  the  most  rapid  coup  d'ceil  and  con- 
ception, and  the  most  accurate  judgment  of  any  person 


328  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

he  had  ever  met  with,  except  the  First  Consul.  He  was 
besides  amiable,  faithful  in  friendship,  and  a  good  patriot ; 
he  possessed  a  heart  truly  French  —  a  heart  of  the  best 
days  of  the  glorious  Republic. 

One  curious  trait  in  his  character  was  the  obstinacy 
with  which  he  refused  to  have  his  hair  cut  short.  In 
vain  the  First  Consul  begged,  entreated  him  to  cut  it 
off;  he  still  retained  a  short  and  thick  queue,  full  of 
powder  and  pomatum.  This  whim  nearly  embroiled  him 
with  Junot,  notwithstanding  their  friendship,  on  account 
of  the  latter  having  cropped  the  hair  of  the  famous 
division  of  Arras,  and  the  fashion  becoming  general  in 
consequence  throughout  the  whole  army. 

Duroc  came  next  to  Lannes  in  Junot's  estimation,  and 
was  a  year  younger;  his  person  was  about  the  same 
stature,  but  with  a  superiority  of  manner  and  figure ;  his 
hair  was  black ;  his  nose,  chin,  and  cheeks  were  too  round 
to  admit  of  his  features  being  at  all  striking,  which  even 
cast  a  shade  of  indecision  over  his  countenance ;  his  eyes 
were  large  and  black,  but  set  so  high  in  his  head  that 
they  did  not  harmonize  with  his  smile  or  any  other  ex- 
pression, from  which  singular  effect  those  who  were  not 
partial  to  him  averred  that  he  was  not  frank;  but  I,  who 
was  his  intimate  friend,  who  knew  his  character  perhaps 
better  than  any  other  person,  can  affirm  that  it  was  all 
openness  and  goodness. 

Our  friendship,  which  commenced  in  1801,  and  closed 
only  with  his  life,  was  almost  that  of  a  brother  and  sis- 
ter. Peculiar  circumstances  made  me  his  confidante,  at 
first  against  his  will,  but  afterward  with  his  entire 
acquiescence,  in  a  case  which  influenced  the  happiness 
of  his  life,  and  which  turned  out  unfortunate.  Numer- 
ous letters  from  him,  which  I  still  possess,  written  from 
all  countries,  certify  that  it  was  long  ere  he  recovered 
his  equanimity,  and  still  longer  before  he  could  pardon 
those  who,  with  one  stroke,  had  given  a  mortal  wound 
to  his  moral  and  political  existence. 

Bonaparte,  who  was  a  good  judge  of  men,  distinguished 
him  from  his  companions,  and  sent  him  to  execute  diffi- 
cult missions  in  foreign  courts;  this  showed  that  he 
understood  Duroc's  capabilities.*  I  have  a  letter  of  his, 

*  This  is  not  the  place  to  allude  to  future  events,  but  I  cannot  forbear 
remarking  that  I  shall  have  frequent  occasion  to  show  that,  far  from 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  329 

dated  from  St.  Petersburg  in  1802,  in  which  he  mentions 
the  too  flattering  estimation  he  was  there  held  in ;  the 
Emperor  Alexander,  when  he  visited  me  in  1814,  spoke 
of  many  persons  whom  Napoleon  had  sent  to  him,  and 
his  opinion  of  Duroc  was  still  the  same  as  it  had  been 
described  twelve  years  before. 

Bessieres,  at  that  time  a  colonel,  was  among  Junot's 
intimate  friends.  I  always  deplored  the  cessation  of  this 
intimacy,  for  the  most  futile  and  ridiculous  cause  im- 
aginable; and  being  frequently  called  upon  to  judge  be- 
tween them,  I  must  confess  that  I  could  not  always 
think  Junot  in  the  right.  Bessieres,  who  was  about  the 
same  age,  was  a  stouter  man  than  Lannes;  like  him,  he 
was  from  the  South,  as  the  accent  of  both  sufficiently 
testified;  and  like  him  he  had  a  mania  for  powder,  but 
with  a  striking  difference  in  the  cut  of  his  hair  —  a  small 
lock  at  each  side  projected  like  little  dog's  ears,  and  his 
long  and  thin  Prussian  queue  supplied  the  place  of  the 
Cadogan  of  Lannes.  He  had  good  teeth,  a  slight  cast  in 
the  eye,  but  not  to  a  disagreeable  extent;  and  a  rather 
prepossessing  address.  He  was  then  colonel  of  the 
Guides  —  that  is  to  say,  of  the  Chasseurs  a  cheval  of  the 
Consular  Guard — jointly  with  Eugene  Beauharnais. 

Eugene  was  still  but  a  child ;  but  already  giving  promise 
of  being,  what  he  afterward  became,  a  most  charming 
and  amiable  young  man.  With  the  exception  of  his 
teeth,  which,  like  his  mother's,  were  frightful,  his  per- 
son was  perfectly  attractive  and  elegant.  Frankness  and 
hilarity  pervaded  all  his  actions;  he  laughed  like  a  child, 
but  never  in  bad  taste.  He  was  good-natured,  gracious, 
polite,  without  being  obsequious,  and  a  mimic  without 
being  impertinent,  which  is  a  rare  talent. 

He  performed  well  in  comedy,  sang  a  good  song,  and 
danced  like  his  father,  who  had  derived  a  surname  from 
his  excellence  in  this  art;  in  short,  he  was  a  truly  agree- 
able young  man.  He  made  a  conquest  of  my  mother, 
whom  he  wished  to  please,  and  completely  succeeded. 
Beauharnais,  the  father,  who  was  called  the  beau  danscur, 
though  well  born,  was  not  of  a  rank  to  ride  in  the 
King's  carriages;  and  Josephine,  his  wife,  was  never 

being  ungrateful  toward  Bonaparte,  as  M.  de  Bourrienne  has  incon- 
siderately asserted,  Duroc  was  always  among  the  most  devoted  of  his 
adherents. 


330  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

presented.  He  alone  was  invited  on  account  of  his  danc- 
ing, and  frequently  had  the  honor  of  being  the  Queen's 
partner. 

Rapp  was  then  what  he  continued  to  be  twenty  years 
later,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  additional  wounds.  It 
is  true  he  had  in  vain  passed  through  all  the  forms  of 
courts,  French  and  foreign,  but  with  manners  the  most 
rough,  ungraceful,  and  awkward  that  ever  belonged  to  a 
man  of  the  world.  But  if  in  courts  he  never  lost  his 
rude  uncultivated  exterior,  so  also  he  preserved  pure  and 
intact  a  disinterested  soul  and  virtuous  heart.  Rapp  was 
always  esteemed  and  loved,  because  he  deserved  to  be  so. 

Berthier  was  one  of  Junot's  friends  with  whom  I  had 
the  greatest  desire  to  become  acquainted.  I  had  seen  him 
frequently  at  Madame  Visconti's;  he  was  small  and  ill- 
shaped,  without  being  deformed;  his  head  was  too  large 
for  his  body ;  his  hair,  neither  light  nor  dark,  was  rather 
frizzed  than  curled;  his  forehead,  eyes,  nose  and  chin 
each  in  the  proper  place,  were,  however,  by  no  means 
handsome  in  the  aggregate.  His  hands,  naturally  ugly, 
became  frightful  by  a  habit  of  biting  his  nails;  add  to 
this,  that  he  stammered  much  in  speaking,  and  that  if 
he  did  not  make  grimaces,  the  agitation  of  his  features 
was  so  rapid  as  to  occasion  some  amusement  to  those 
who  witnessed  it.  He  was  the  plainest  of  the  three 
brothers ;  Caesar  was  better  looking  than  he,  and  Leopold 
still  better  than  Caesar.  Madame  O'Ogeranville,  their 
sister,  resembled  mostly  Alexander.  Berthier  not  only 
loved  Napoleon,  but  he  was  greatly  attached  to  several 
of  his  brother  officers ;  and  often  braved  the  ill-humor  of 
the  Emperor,  in  speaking  to  him  of  such  of  his  friends 
as  had  committed  faults.  Berthier  was  good  in  every 
acceptation  of  the  word. 

"The  best  and  dearest  of  my  friends, w  said  Junot,  after 
having  presented  his  comrades  separately  to  me,  <c  is 
still  in  Italy;  Marmont  will  soon  return  with  his  wife, 
to  whom  I  shall  introduce  you,  and  whose  friendship  I 
hope  you  will  obtain,  giving  yours  in  return;  he  is  a 
brother  to  me.w 

M.  de  Lavalette,  another  of  my  mother's  guests  on  that 
day,  was  no  bad  representation  of  Bacchus :  a  lady  might 
have  been  proud  of  his  pretty  little  white  hand  and  pink 
well-turned  nails;  his  two  little  eyes,  and  immoderately 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  331 

little  nose,  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  fat  pair  of  cheeks, 
gave  to  his  countenance  a  truly  comic  expression,  in  aid 
of  which  came  the  extraordinary  arrangement  of  his  head ; 
not  the  locks  only,  but  the  individual  hairs  might  be 
counted,  and  they  received  distinguishing  names  from  the 
wits  of  the  staff  —  as  (<  the  invincible, w  <(  the  redoubtable, " 
tt  the  courageous  M  ;  and  one  in  particular,  which  defied  the 
discipline  of  the  comb  or  the  hand,  and  pertinaciously 
stood  upright,  they  called  (<  the  indomitable.  * 

Notwithstanding  this  personal  appearance,  and  an  ad- 
dress almost  burlesque,  Lavalette  knew  how  to  impose 
respect,  and  never  suffered  merriment  to  take  unwar- 
ranted liberties  with  him.  He  had  sense  and  wit;  had 
seen  much  and  retained  much;  had  related  multitudes  of 
anecdotes  with  remarkable  grace,  resulting  from  a  cast 
of  ideas  at  once  quiet,  brilliant,  and  acute.  M.  de  Lava- 
lette was  not,  however,  a  superior  man ;  the  horrible  and 
infamous  prosecution  of  which  he  was  the  object  has 
placed  him  on  an  eminence  which  he  would  never  other- 
wise have  attained;  but  he  had  the  essential  qualities  of 
a  good  father,  a  good  husband,  and  a  faithful  friend. 

He  married,  a  few  days  before  his  departure  for  Egypt, 
Mademoiselle  Emilie  de  Beauharnais,  daughter  of  the 
Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  brother-in-law  of  Madame  Bona- 
parte. This  young  lady  —  of  extreme  beauty,  gentle, 
and,  thanks  to  Madame  Bonaparte,  her  aunt,  very  well 
educated  —  had  considerable  difficulty  in  marrying,  on 
account  of  the  position  of  her  parents.  Her  father  ob- 
tained a  divorce  from  his  wife  that  he  might  marry  a 
German  canoness;  and  her  mother  married  at  the  same 
time  a  negro.  The  poor  abandoned  child  was  fortunate 
in  having  attracted  the  affections  of  such  a  man  as  Lava- 
lette, which  she  warmly  returned. 

Her  husband,  however,  had  not  reached  Egypt  before 
the  bride  took  the  smallpox,  and  scarcely  escaping  with 
her  life,  lost  her  beauty.  She  was  in  despair,  and 
though  by  degrees  the  marks  of  the  pustules  became  less 
evident;  though  her  figure  was  still  fine,  her  complexion 
dazzling,  her  teeth  good,  and  her  countenance  pleasing, 
she  could  not  reconcile  herself  to  the  change  of  which 
both  before  and  after  his  return  she  felt  conscious  that 
her  husband  must  be  sensible.  The  delicacy  of  his  con- 
duct never  gave  her  reason  for  a  moment  to  suppose  that 


332  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

his  attachment  was  in  any  way  diminished ;  but  her  sighs 
and  tears,  her  profound  melancholy,  and  weariness  of 
life,  showed  that  she  could  not  overcome  her  own 
apprehensions ;  the  excellent  Lavalette  had  but  one  wish, 
and  that  was  that  his  wife  should  be  happy. 

Lucien,  Minister  of  the  Interior,  could  not  be  at  my 
wedding  dinner,  but  Madame  Murat,  though  about  to  lie 
in,  made  an  effort  to  join  us.  Madame  Leclerc  was  in 
the  height  of  her  beauty.  Madame  Bacciochi  was  dressed 
on  the  occasion  with  a  degree  of  eccentricity  which  even 
now  is  fresh  to  my  mind.  She  had  presided  in  the  morn- 
ing over  a  female  literary  society;  and  proposing  to 
establish  a  peculiar  costume  for  the  associates,  she  con- 
sidered the  readiest  way  to  effect  her  purpose  was  to 
have  a  pattern  made  and  appear  in  it  herself,  and  in 
this  new  dress  she  afterward  came  to  my  mother;  such 
a  medley  of  the  Jewish,  Roman,  Middle  Age,  and  modern 
Greek  costumes  —  of  everything,  in  short,  except  French 
good  taste  —  was,  I  think,  never  seen. 

To  see  Madame  Bacciochi  thus  attired  was  not  surpris- 
ing, because  we  were  accustomed  to  her  singularities; 
but  it  was  impossible  to  resist  the  ludicrous  impression 
she  created  by  declaring  her  intention  of  offering  such  a 
dress  to  the  adoption  of  all  good  Christians. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

Rapp  and  M.  de  Caulaincourt  —  Tragi-comic  Scene  —  M.  de  Caulain- 
court's  Tribulation  —  The  Duel  Prevented,  and  the  Reconciliation 
—  General  Lannes  —  Military  Manners  —  Powdered  yueues,  and 
Singular  Prepossession  —  Colonel  Bessieres  and  General  Augereau. 

MDE   CAULAINCOURT    had  known   Rapp   at   the   Tuil- 
eries,    and   it  was   not    without   surprise   that   he 
recognized  him  in  our  society.     Approaching  me 
he    asked,    in    an    undertone,  whether    <(  that   great   boy w 
(pointing  out  Rapp)  had  paid  his  visit  to  my  mother.     I 
answered   in   the   negative.     <(  Then  at   least   he   has  left 
his  card  ?  w     <(  No. w     <(  But,  my  dear  child,  it  is  not  possi- 
ble; you  must  have  been    so    absorbed   in    admiration   of 
your  corbeille  as  not  to  have  seen  him.     It  is  not  credible 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  333 

that  a  man  should  come  and  sit  down  in  the  house  of  a 
woman  of  good  society,  and  eat  at  her  table,  without 
having  first  been  introduced,  and  paid  his  respects  to 
her.» 

As  he  was  proceeding  in  a  very  animated  tone,  Rapp 
crept  softly  behind  him,  then  hallooed  into  his  ear: 
(<  What  are  you  talking  of,  dear  papa  ?  Please  to  move  out 
of  my  way,  on  a  wedding  day,  you  know,  the  old  must 
give  way  to  the  young. w  And  so  saying,  he  threw  his 
arms  round  the  old  gentleman's  waist,  lifted  him  gently 
from  the  ground,  and  set  him  down  at  a  little  distance. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt's  good  nature  made  him  generally 
beloved,  but  under  it  was  concealed  a  strength  of  char- 
acter known  only  to  those  who  were  much  in  his  society ; 
and  such  a  circumstance  as  the  present  was  calculated  to 
show  him  off  as  a  high-bred  French  gentleman  in  the 
true  acceptation  of  the  word.  Looking  at  Rapp  with  an 
expression  of  dignified  severity,  he  said: 

"Colonel,  you  and  I  are  neither  old  enough  nor  young 
enough  for  such  play."  Then  bowing  coldly  to  him,  he 
offered  me  his  arm,  saying :  (<  Will  you  come  and  see 
what  is  passing  in  the  next  room  ? w 

The  worthy  man  was  agitated.  I  led  him  through  my 
mother's  room,  which  was  filled  with  company,  and  made 
him  sit  down  in  mine,  which  my  mother  had  converted 
into  a  second  boudoir.  Junot  was  surprised  soon  after 
to  find  me  consoling  my  old  friend,  to  whom  I  was 
endeavoring  to  represent  that  the  matter  did  not  deserve 
the  serious  turn  he  was  disposed  to  give  it.  I  repeated 
the  whole  to  Junot,  who,  in  spite  of  the  old  gentleman's 
opposition  —  for  M.  de  Caulaincourt  would  by  no  means 
permit  that  he  should  seek  apologies  for  him  —  went  to 
remonstrate  with  Rapp,  and  in  five  minutes  brought  him 
to  us,  ready  to  fall  on  his  knees  to  entreat  pardon  for 
the  brutalities  which  Junot  had  assured  him  he  had 
committed.  <(  And  Junot  tells  me  also,"  he  added,  turning 
to  me,  <(  that  I  have  failed  in  respect  to  you  in  acting  so 
rudely  in  your  presence.  I  might,  however,  absolutely 
refuse  to  beg  pardon,  because  apologies  are  only  neces- 
sary when  one  has  done  wrong  intentionally,  and  certainly 
I  did  not  intend  to  offend. M 

It  was  impossible  to  forbear  laughing  at  this  quaint 
excuse,  and  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  frankly  holding  out  his 


334  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

hand,  said  to  him :  <(  You  are  a  good  fellow,  and  I  shall 
be  happy  to  become  one  of  your  friends.  *  Rapp  pressed 
the  old  gentleman's  hand  with  a  very  pretty  little  hand 
of  his  own,  not  at  all  consistent  with  his  massive  figure ; 
and  here  ended  an  affair  from  which  my  friend's  high 
feelings  of  honor  had  threatened  nothing  less  than  a 
duel,  except  that  my  mother  was  so  offended  with  Rapp 
that  she  scarcely  ever  spoke  politely  to  him  afterward. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt,  dining  at  our  house  some  days 
afterward,  requested  an  introduction  to  Lannes,  who,  of 
all  the  Republican  generals,  was  the  one  who  pleased 
him  best.  I  passed  my  arm  through  his,  and  led  him  to 
the  other  end  of  the  salon,  where  Lannes  was  conversing 
with  Junot.  <(  General,*  said  I,  "permit  me  to  present 
to  you  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  an  ancient  and  distinguished 
general  officer,  who  wishes  to  be  acquainted  with  you.w 

The  pleasing  countenance  of  Lannes  was  immediately 
lighted  up  with  a  cordial  smile,  and,  shaking  him  by  the 
hand,  he  said:  "Ah,  my  old  friend!  I  like  the  ancients; 
there  is  always  something  to  be  learned  from  them.  To 
what  branch  of  the  service  did  you  belong?  Were  you 
biped  or  quadruped?  Or  —  ah,  Diable !  I  believe  you  are 
at  present  attached  to  the  Royal  Phlegmatics. *  *  The 
fact  was  that,  astonished  at  Lannes's  reception,  and  the 
rolling  artillery  which  at  that  time  made  a  copious  part 
of  his  vocabulary,  M.  de  Caulaincourt  had  been  seized 
with  a  severe  fit  of  coughing  which  he  could  not  stifle. 

"  Ah,  what  is  the  matter  ? w  said  the  General,  patting 
him  upon  the  back  as  we  do  a  choking  child.  "  Why, 
this  is  an  infirmity  that  requires  reform,  Junot ;  you  must 
make  Lassalle  enroll  him.*  Lassalle  then  commanded 
the  veterans  of  the  garrison  of  Paris,  but  was  no  rela- 
tion to  the  famous  General  of  the  same  name.  The  good  old 
gentleman  scarcely  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  to  be 
angry. 

Meanwhile  Junot  whispered  a  word  to  the  General, 
who,  suddenly  changing  his  tone,  said  with  an  expres- 
sion almost  respectful:  "What,  are  you  the  father  of 
those  two  brave  young  men,  one  of  whom,  notwithstand- 
ing his  early  age,  is  Colonel  of  a  regiment  of  Carabi- 
neers ?  Then  you  must  be  brave  yourself!  You  have 

*The  expression  «  royal-pituite^'vs,  much  more  ridiculous  in  French 
than  it  can  possibly  be  rendered  in  our  language. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  335 

educated  them  for  the  country,  and  you  have  not,  like 
too  many  of  your  class,  sold  them  to  foreigners.  You 
must  be  a  good  man;  I  must  embrace  you."  And  so 
saying,  he  threw  his  arms  round  him,  and  embraced  him 
heartily. 

We  left  the  two  comrades  to  resume  the  conversation 
we  had  interrupted,  and  went  to  rejoin  my  mother  in  an 
adjoining  salon.  w  How  do  you  like  General  Lannes?  * 
said  I.  <(  Oh !  very  well !  very  well.  But  I  expected  quite 
a  different  kind  of  man:  for  example,  he  swears  like  a 
galley-slave;  it  makes  one  tremble.  To  be  sure,  he  may 
be  a  good  soldier  and  a  brave  man  for  all  that. "  <(  And 
what  more  could  you  expect  in  General  Lannes  than  a 
soldier  distinguished  by  his  valor  and  his  skill  in  beat- 
ing the  enemy?  *  *  Why,  my  dear  child,  what  could  I 
think  !  It  was  the  fashion  of  dressing  his  hair  that  de- 
ceived me.  I  thought  that  if  a  man  knew  how  to  dress 
himself  he  must  have  something  of  the  manners  of  other 
times;  how  could  I  think  otherwise?" 

This  nai've  confession  stupefied  me.  w  Is  it  possible, 
then,"  said  I,  *that  you  have  judged  a  man  only  by  his 
queue  ?  You  were  very  unfortunate  in  not  having  en- 
countered General  Augereau,  in  whom  you  would  have 
found  yourself  much  more  mistaken."  At  this  moment 
a  great  man  passed  us,  and  saluted  me  with  a  bow  of 
respect  which  is  only  to  be  met  with  in  well-brought-up 
persons.  (<  And  who  is  that  ? "  said  M.  de  Caulaincourt ; 
*  he  is  powdered  too,  I  think. "  *  It  is  Colonel  Bessieres ; 
shall  I  introduce  him  to  you,  papa  ? "  *  No,  no, "  said  he 
hastily ;  <(  I  have  had  enough  of  introductions  for  to-day !  " 

It  was  in  vain  I  assured  him  that  Bessieres  left  his 
bad  language  in  the  barracks;  he  felt  no  inclination  for 
the  experiment;  but  when  some  time  afterward  he  met 
General  Augereau  he  remembered  my  words,  and  had  an 
opportunity  of  proving  their  truth.  That  General  sur- 
passed even  himself  in  swearing,  and  my  poor  friend,  in 
relating  the  conversation  he  had  had  with  General  Fruc- 
tidor,  as  he  called  him,  could  not  find  words  to  express 
the  astonishment  he  felt  at  the  language  he  had  heard. 


336  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

My  Presentation  to  the  First  Consul  and  Madame  Bonaparte — Duroc 
and  Rapp  on  the  Steps  —  Eleven  o'clock  —  Politeness  of  Eugene  de 
Beauharnais  —  Gracious  Reception  by  Madame  Bonaparte  —  Amia- 
bility of  Hortense  —  Conversation  with  the  First  Consul — Bonaparte's 
Opinion  of  Mirabeau  —  The  Rogue  and  the  Tribunes  —  M.  de  Cobent- 
zel  and  Singular  Reserve  of  Bonaparte  —  Bonaparte  upon  the  Society 
of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain  —  Portrait  of  Mademoiselle  de  Beau- 
harnais. 

MY    PRESENTATION    to   the   First    Consul    and   Madame 
Bonaparte  was  a  great  affair  for   my  mother;   she 
occupied  herself  upon  my  toilet  with  more  minute 
care  than  I  imagine  she  had  ever  bestowed  upon  her  own 
in  the  highest  tide  of   her  vanity.     One   thing   disturbed 
her    much,    no    ceremonial.      (<  Nevertheless,    he  acts  the 
King,"  said  my  mother.     The  truth  was  that  at  this  time 
the  interior  of  the  First  Consul's  family  was  like  that  of 
a  very  rich  man,  with  no  more  etiquette;  Madame  Bona- 
parte had  not  even  yet  ladies  in  waiting. 

We  went  to  the  Tuileries  after  the  Opera,  leaving  the 
ballet  of  "  Psych^ "  in  the  middle  that  we  might  not  be  too 
late,  and  arrived  at  ten  o'clock.  My  heart  beat  as  we 
alighted  at  the  Pavilion  of  Flora,  at  the  door  which  pre- 
cedes that  in  the  angle  so  long  called  the  entrance  of 
the  Empress.  As  we  ascended  the  five  or  six  steps  be- 
fore the  door  on  the  left,  leading  to  the  apartments  on 
the  ground  floor,  we  met  Duroc  and  Rapp.  (<  How  late 
you  are!"  said  Duroc.  (<  It  is  near  eleven  o'clock. " 
"Ah!"  added  the  brave  Alsatian,  "Madame  Junot  is  a 
worker  of  marvels;  she  is  about  to  make  an  infidel  of 
of  our  good  Junot."  And  he  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

I  was  desirous  of  turning  back;  but  Junot  replied, 
(<  Madame  Bonaparte  desired  me  to  come  here  after  the 
Opera. "  <(  Oh !  "  said  Duroc ;  (<  it  is  quite  a  different  thing 
if  Madame  Bonaparte  has  appointed  the  hour." 

At  this  moment  the  folding  door  of  Madame  Bona- 
parte's apartment  opened,  and  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
ran  down.  He  was  sent  by  his  mother,  because,  having 
heard  the  wheels  of  a  carriage  within  the  Court,  and 
finding  that  no  one  came  up,  she  began  to  fear  lest  by 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  337 

mistake,  arising  from  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  I  might 
be  told  that  she  could  not  receive  me. 

I  was  sensible  of  this  attention,  and  the  more  so  as 
the  messenger  was  himself  very  fit  to  dispel  apprehen- 
sions of  a  doubtful  reception.  M.  de  Beauharnais  gave 
me  his  arm,  and  we  entered  the  large  salon  together. 
This  fine  apartment  was  so  obscure  that  at  first  entering 
I  saw  no  one  in  it;  for  it  was  lighted  only  by  two 
chandeliers  placed  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  surrounded 
with  gauze  to  soften  the  glare.  I  was  very  nervous  on 
entering;  but  an  observation  from  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
contributed  wonderfully  to  restore  my  composure. 

(<  You  have  nothing  to  fear,*  said  he;  (<  my  mother  and 
sister  are  so  kind ! w  These  words  made  me  start ;  no 
doubt  I  might  experience  that  emotion  which  a  young 
woman  is  so  liable  to  feel  at  a  first  presentation  to 
strangers,  especially  when  she  has  some  reason  to  imag- 
ine that  she  may  not  be  very  cordially  received ;  but  my 
spirits  recovered  surprisingly. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  in  the  same  place  which  she 
then  occupied  as  mistress  of  the  house,  and  where  after- 
ward she  was  seated  as  sovereign  of  the  world;  I  found 
her  before  a  tapestry  frame  prosecuting  a  work,  three- 
fourths  of  which  was  performed  by  Mademoiselle  Dubu- 
quoy,  whose  ingenious  hint  that  Marie  Antoinette  was 
fond  of  such  employments  had  inspired  Josephine's  in- 
clination for  them.  At  the  other  side  of  the  chimney 
sat  Mademoiselle  Hortense  de  Beauharnais,  an  amiable, 
mild,  agreeable  girl,  with  the  figure  of  a  nymph  and 
beautiful  light  hair.  Her  gracious  manners  and  gentle 
words  were  irresistibly  pleasing. 

The  First  Consul  was  standing  before  the  chimney 
with  his  hands  behind  him,  fidgeting  as  he  had  already 
the  habit  of  doing;  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me,  and  as 
soon  as  I  recovered  my  self-possession  I  found  that  he 
was  closely  examining  me;  but  from  that  moment  I  de- 
termined not  to  be  abashed,  as  to  allow  myself  to  be 
overcome  by  fantastic  fears  with  such  a  man  would  be 
ruin. 

Madame  Bonaparte  stood  up,  came  forward,  took  my 
two  hands  and  embraced  me,  saying  that  I  might  de- 
pend upon  her  friendship.  (<  I  have  been  too  long  Junot's 
friend, w  she  continued,  <(  not  to  entertain  the  same  sen- 

22 


338  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

timents  for  his  wife,  particularly  for  the  one  he  has 
chosen. *  (<Oh,  oh!  Josephine,"  said  the  First  Consul, 
"that  is  running  on  very  fast!  How  do  you  know  that 
this  little  pickle  is  worth  loving  ?  Well,  Mademoiselle 
Loulou  (you  see  I  do  not  forget  the  names  of  my  old 
friends),  have  you  not  a  word  for  me?* 

He  had  taken  my  hand,  and,  drawing  me  toward  him, 
looked  at  me  with  a  scrutiny  which  for  a  moment  made 
me  castrdown  my  eyes,  but  I  recollected  myself  immedi- 
ately. <c  General,*  I  replied,  smiling,  (<  it  is  not  for  me 
to  speak  first. *  The  slight  contraction  of  his  brow  would 
have  been  imperceptible  to  any  other  person,  but  I  knew 
his  countenance  well:  he  smiled  almost  instantly,  and 
said,  "Very  well  parried.  Oh,  the  mother's  spirit. 
Apropos,  how  is  Madame  Permon  ?  *  <(  She  suffers  much ; 
for  two  years  past  her  health  has  altered  so  seriously  as 
to  cause  us  great  uneasiness. *  <(  Indeed !  so  bad  as  that ; 
I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  very  sorry;  make  my  regards  to 
her.  It  is  a  wrong  head  —  a  devil  of  a  spirit;*  but  she 
has  a  generous  heart  and  a  noble  soul.* 

I  withdrew  my  hand,  which  he  had  held  during  this 
short  colloquy,  and  took  my  seat  near  Madame  Bonaparte. 
The  conversation  became  general  and  very  agreeable. 
Duroc  came  in,  and  took  part  in  it.  Madame  Bonaparte 
said  little  on  subjects  she  did  not  understand,  and 
thereby  avoided  exposing  her  ignorance.  Her  daughter, 
without  saying  more  than  is  becoming  in  a  young  girl, 
had  the  talent  of  sustaining  the  conversation  on  agree- 
able topics. 

M.  de  Cobentzel  was  expected  at  Paris,  and  his  arrival 
was  spoken  of.  Madame  Bonaparte  said  that  she  had 
heard  some  one  observe  upon  the  astonishing  resemblance 
between  Count  Louis  de  Cobentzel  and  Mirabeau.  (<  Who 
said  that  ?  *  asked  the  First  Consul  hastily.  (<  I  do  not 
exactly  recollect.  Barras,  I  think. w  <(  And  where  had 
Barras  seen  M.  de  Cobentzel  ?  Mirabeau !  he  was  ugly ; 
M.  de  Cobentzel  is  ugly  —  there  is  all  the  resemblance. 
Eh,  pardieu!  you  know  him,  Junot;  you  were  with  him 
at  our  famous  treaty,  and  Duroc,  too.  But  you  never 
saw  Mirabeau.  He  was  a  rogue,  but  a  clever  rogue!  he 

*  I  have  already  said  that  I  shall  preserve  the  turn  of  Napoleon's 
phrases  and  his  manner  of  speaking;  it  was  original,  and  at  once 
Oriental  and  bourgeoise. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  339 

himself  did  more  mischief  to  the  former  masters  of  this 
house  than  the  States-General  altogether.  But  he  was  a 
rogue.  *  Here  he  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  repeating,  (<  He 
was  a  bad  man,  and  too  vicious  to  be  tribune  of  the 
people;  not  but  in  my  tribunate  there  were  some  no 
better  than  he,  and  without  half  his  talent.  As  for 
Count  Louis  de  Cobentzel w 

He  took  another  pinch  of  snuff,  and  was  about  to  re- 
sume his  observations,  but  stopped  as  if  struck  by  a 
sudden  reflection.  He  thought,  perhaps,  that  the  first 
magistrate  of  the  Republic  should  not  so  lightly  give  his 
opinion  upon  a  man  just  named  by  a  great  Power  to  treat 
with  him.  He  stopped  then  with  a  sentence  half  uttered, 
and,  turning  to  me,  said: 

"  I  hope  that  we  shall  often  see  you,  Madame  Junot. 
My  intention  is  to  draw  round  me  a  numerous  family, 
consisting  of  my  generals  and  their  young  wives.  They 
will  be  friends  of  my  wife  and  of  Hortense,  as  their 
husbands  are  mine.  Does  that  suit  you?  I  warn  you 
that  you  will  be  disappointed  if  you  expect  to  find  here 
your  fine  acquaintances,  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain. 
I  do  not  like  them.  They  are  my  enemies,  and  prove 
it  by  defaming  me.  Tell  them  from  me,  as  your  mother 
lives  among  them  —  tell  them  that  I  am  not  afraid  of 
them.* 

This  sentence,  spoken  with  harshness,  gave  me  uneasi- 
ness from  two  causes:  it  was  disobliging  both  to  Junot 
and  to  me;  it  seemed  to  reproach  him  for  taking  a  wife 
from  a  hostile  society,  and  to  hint  that  I  came  into  his 
own  with  unfriendly  disposition.  I  could  not  forbear 
answering,  perhaps  hastily: 

(<  General,  excuse  me  if  I  cannot  consent  to  do  what 
is  not  in  the  province  of  a  woman,  and  particularly  in 
that  of  General  Junot's  wife;  and  permit  me  to  carry 
from  you  to  my  friends  only  messages  of  peace  and 
union;  I  know  that  they  desire  no  others. w 

I  would  not  interrupt  the  relation  of  this  interesting 
interview  to  describe  the  person  and  manners  of  Ma- 
demoiselle de  Beauharnais,  but  I  think  it  would  be  an 
injustice  both  to  her  and  my  readers  to  omit  to  describe 
her  as  she  appeared  at  my  first  introduction  to  her. 
Hortense  de  Beauharnais  was  at  this  time  seventeen 
years  old;  she  was  fresh  as  a  rose,  and  though  her 


340  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

fair  complexion  was  not  relieved  by  much  color,  she 
had  enough  to  produce  that  freshness  and  bloom  which 
washer  chief  beauty;  a  profusion  of  light  hair  played 
in  silky  locks  round  her  soft  and  penetrating  blue  eyes. 
The  delicate  roundness  of  her  figure,  slender  as  a  palm 
tree,  was  set  off  by  the  elegant  carriage  of  her  head ;  her 
feet  were  small  and  pretty;  her  hands  very  white,  with 
pink,  well-rounded  nails. 

But  what  formed  the  chief  attraction  of  Hortense  was 
the  grace  and  suavity  of  her  manners,  which  united  the 
Creole  languor  with  the  vivacity  of  France.  She  was 
gay,  gentle,  and  amiable;  she  had  wit,  which,  without 
the  smallest  ill-temper,  had  just  malice  enough  to  be 
amusing.  A  careful  education  had  improved  her  natural 
talents;  she  drew  excellently,  sang  harmoniously,  and 
performed  admirably  in  comedy.  In  1800  she  was  a 
charming  young  girl;  she  afterward  became  one  of  the 
most  amiable  princesses  of  Europe.  I  have  seen  many, 
both  in  their  own  courts  and  in  Paris,  but  I  never  knew 
one  who  had  any  pretensions  to  equal  talent. 

She  was  beloved  by  everyone,  though,  of  all  who  sur- 
rounded her,  her  mother  seemed  to  be  the  least  conscious 
of  her  attractions.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  she  did 
not  love  her,  but  certainly  she  did  not  express  that 
degree  of  maternal  affection  which  Hortense  de  Beau- 
harnais  merited.  Her  brother  loved  her  tenderly:  the 
First  Consul  looked  upon  her  as  his  child;  and  it  was 
only  in  that  country  so  fertile  in  the  inventions  of  scan- 
dal that  so  foolish  an  accusation  could  have  been  imag- 
ined, as  that  any  feeling  less  pure  than  paternal  affection 
actuated  his  conduct  toward  her.  The  vile  calumny 
met  with  the  contempt  it  merited,  and  is  now  only  re- 
membered to  be  confuted. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  34* 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 

The  Wedding  Ball  —  List  of  Guests  —  Swearing  —  Invitation  to  the 
First  Consul  —  His  Visiting  Cards —  Diplomatic  Breakfast  —  Visit  to 
the  .Tuileries,  and  Invitation  to  Madame  Bonaparte  —  The  Monaco 
and  Les  Deux  Coqs  —  The  First  Consul's  Closet  —  Charm  of  His 
Physiognomy  —  The  First  Consul  Accepts  an  Invitation  to  the  Ball  — 
The  First  Anniversary  of  the  i8th  of  Brumaire,  and  the  Ball  Deferred 
—  M.  de  Caulaincourt's  Indiscretion. 

MY  MOTHER  had  determined  to  give  a  ball  on  the 
fifteenth  day  after  my  marriage ;  it  was  an  ancient 
custom,  and  though  not  now  the  fashion,  she 
would  by  no  means  forego  it.  One  evening  when  we 
had  dined  with  her,  she  required  our  assistance  in  arrang- 
ing her  plans:  <(  For  this  ball,*  said  she,  "must  be  one 
of  the  prettiest  that  has  been  given  this  long  time  past; 
my  house,  it  is  true,  is  very  small,  but  it  must  be 
turned  into  an  enchanted  parterre  of  flowers.  Come, 
take  your  place  at  the  desk,  Madame  Laurette,  and  make 
out  our  list  of  invitations,  for  all  your  husband's  friends 
must  be  of  the  party. w  Junot  thanked  her,  and  kissed 
her  hand. 

w  Oh !  surely,  *  she  replied,  (<  your  friends  are  my 
friends  now,  only  they  swear  rather  too  much;  and  you, 
I  have  been  told,  can  do  so,  too,  when  you  are  angry. 
You  must  leave  off  that  ugly  habit;  it  does  not  become 
a  gentleman.  *  Junot  laughed,  and  held  up  his  finger  to 
me.  (<  What,  because  she  tells  me  that  you  swear  ? w 
said  my  mother.  (<  No,  I  hope  she  will  never  cease  to 
pour  all  her  confidence  into  my  maternal  ear;  besides, 
remember,  she  has  not  yet  made  acquaintance  enough 
with  your  ear  for  it  to  supplant  mine;  but  come,  to 
work. " 

Junot  took  the  pen,  and  wrote  down  all  the  names  of 
the  ladies,  beginning  with  Madame  Bonaparte  and  Made- 
moiselle de  Beauharnais.  He  then  waited  for  the  name 
with  which  my  mother  would  commence  the  list  of  gen- 
tlemen. 

(<  The  First  Consul  of  the  French  Republic,  One  and 
Indivisible ;  is  not  that  the  style  ?  *  said  my  mother. 
«  The  First  Consul !  w  we  exclaimed  together.  "  Yes,  the 


342  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

First  Consul ;  is  there  anything  astonishing  in  that  ?  I 
am  tired  of  being  on  bad  terms  with  anyone,  and  besides 
-  "  <(  And  besides, "  said  Junot,  laughing,  <(  you  think 
that  perhaps  you  were  more  in  the  wrong  than  he." 

<c  No,  no, "  said  my  mother ;  (<  that  is  quite  another 
affair.  He  was  in  the  wrong  altogether;  but  I  considered 
that,  as  Laurette  might  be  daily  in  his  society,  this 
sort  of  quarrels  might  produce  disagreeable  effects  for 
her,  and  I  wished  to  prevent  that  —  was  I  not  right  ?  " 
We  embraced  her.  <(  But  the  invitation, "  she  added,  (<  is 
not  all.  Do  you  think  he  will  accept  it  ?  do  you  think 
he  will  come?"  ((I  am  sure  of  it;  only  name  the  hour 
that  will  suit  you  best,  and  I  will  come  to  fetch  you," 
said  Junot,  enchanted  at  this  prospect  of  reconciliation 
between  his  mother-in-law  and  his  beloved  General. 

My  mother  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  astonishment 
perfectly  laughable.  <(  Fetch  me !  to  go  where  ? " 
<(  Where !  "  returned  Junot,  as  much  surprised  in  his 
turn ;  <(  to  the  Tuileries,  to  tender  your  invitation  to  the 
First  Consul  and  Madame  Bonaparte. "  <(  My  dear  Junot, " 
said  my  mother,  with  the  utmost  seriousness  and  sang- 
froid, <(  you  are  quite,  nay,  perfectly  mad. "  (<  It  seems 
to  me  that  what  I  say  is,  nevertheless,  very  sensible ; 
that  nothing,  in  fact,  can  be  more  reasonable,"  replied 
Junot,  somewhat  disconcerted  by  the  apostrophe.  (<And 
I  tell  you,  you  are  mad.  Would  you  have  me  go  to  re- 
quest General  Bonaparte  to  come  again  to  my  house, 
after  having  forbidden  his  appearance  there  ? " 

(( How,  then,  do  you  propose  to  invite  him  ? "  asked 
Junot,  with  an  accent  impossible  to  describe.  <(  Truly, 
how  should  I  invite  him  ?  Precisely  in  the  same  manner 
as  I  do  everyone  else,  except  that  the  card  shall  be  all 
in  writing,  and  I  will  write  it  all  in  my  own  neat  hand, 
which  he  knows  perfectly  well." 

Junot  strode  up  and  down  the  room,  exclaiming,  <(  But 
that  cannot  be!  You  had  better  not  invite  him  at  all! 
He  will  think  that  you  intend  him  a  disrespect. "  (<  He 
would  be  much  mistaken,  then.  But  he  would  think  no 
such  thing;  and  you  will  see  that,  after  having  received 
my  note  of  invitation,  he  will  do  as  all  well-bred  men 
would;  he  will  call  on  me  before  the  ball,  or  at  least  he 
will  have  a  card  left  at  the  door. "  (<  Do  you  think, 
then,"  said  Junot,  in  the  utmost  surprise,  w  that  he  keeps 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  343 

visiting  cards  ? "  "And  why  not  ?  My  dear  child,  be- 
cause Bonaparte  gains  battles,  is  that  any  reason  that 
he  should  not  visit  ?  w 

For  a  long  time  my  inclination  to  laugh  had  been  sup- 
pressed with  the  utmost  difficulty;  Albert,  throwing  him- 
self back  in  his  armchair,  had  given  way  to  his  from 
the  first;  and  this  last  observation,  together  with  the 
stupefied  astonishment  of  Junot,  who,  with  his  mouth 
half  open,  could  not  find  words  to  answer,  was  altogether 
too  much  for  my  gravity,  and  I  burst  into  one  of  those 
fits  of  wild  mirth  which  one  only  enjoys  at  sixteen.  My 
mother  and  Junot  were  still  no  less  serious,  my  mother 
at  intervals  murmuring,  (<  I  do  not  see  why  he  should 
not  visit,  and  certainly  I  shall  not  go  first. M 

My  brother  and  I  became  by  degrees  more  reasonable, 
seeing  that  she  was  perfectly  in  earnest,  and  certainly 
intended  that  the  First  Consul  should  come  first  to  her. 
Now,  it  is  true  that  not  even  a  thought  of  royalty  was 
yet  attached  to  his  name,  but  already  for  twelve  months 
he  had  exercised  the  supreme  authority  of  the  State ;  and 
this  power  had  placed  him  on  an  elevation  which  ap- 
peared quite  natural  and  becoming  to  him;  he  was  there 
because  it  was  his  proper  place. 

Albert  knew  my  mother's  character,  and  that  by  further 
opposition  we  should  irritate  without  persuading  her; 
he  therefore  sat  down  to  the  desk,  and  requested  her  to 
dictate  her  list,  which  she  did  with  as  much  self-pos- 
session and  composure  as  if  the  First  Consul  had  never 
existed.  The  list  consisted  of  seventy  men  and  forty 
ladies  —  a  large  number  for  so  small  a  house;  but  then, 
as  now,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  be  crowded,  and  the  great- 
est approbation  that  could  be  expressed  the  day  after 
a  ball  was,  w  What  a  charming  ftte!  we  were  almost 
suffocated!  w 

The  next  morning  Albert  breakfasted  with  us,  and  it 
was  resolved  in  our  little  council  that  we  should  all 
three  proceed  immediately  to  the  Tuileries,  and,  in  my 
mother's  name,  make  our  personal  request  to  the  First 
Consul  and  Madame  Bonaparte  to  honor  with  their  pres> 
ence  the  ball  my  family  were  to  give  on  the  occasion 
of  my  marriage,  taking  good  care  to  say  nothing  of  the 
written  invitations  which  had  been  intrusted  to  me  for 
delivery. 


344  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Madame  Bonaparte  received  us  in  the  most  gracious 
manner;  it  was  in  such  cases  that  she  appeared  to  the 
utmost  advantage.  She  had  already  gone  through  all 
that  a  royal  novitiate  demanded,  and  it  can  scarcely 
be  imagined  with  what  ease  she  stepped  into  the  station 
of  Queen.  She  accepted  our  invitation  for  herself  and 
Mademoiselle  de  Beauharnais;  the  latter,  she  said,  was 
absent  from  the  Tuileries.  She  seemed,  however,  by  no 
means  willing  that  we  should  extend  our  invitation  to 
the  First  Consul.  <(  He  has  been, *  she  said,  <(  but  to  two 
f$tes  since  his  entry  upon  the  Consulate  —  the  one  at 
Morfontaine,  where  policy  led  him  to  meet  the  American 
envoy ;  the  other  was  the  fete  given  him  by  the  Consul 
Cambace"res  on  his  return  from  Marengo;  and  besides, * 
added  she,  (<  he  dances  but  little. M 

w  My  sister,  *  said  Albert,  with  his  natural  mildness  of 
manner,  (<  will  not  readily  admit  that ;  the  First  Consul 
has  often,  VERY  OFTEN,  danced  the  Monaco  and  Les  Deux 
Cogs  with  Laurette,  to  the  sound  of  my  eldest  sister's 
piano.  Do  you  know  Madame,  that  we  may  claim  almost 
the  rights  of  fraternity  with  General  Bonaparte?  w  "Yes, 
he  has  often  told  me  so,*  she  replied,  with  an  affectation 
of  friendliness.  But  this  was  not  true,  for  I  know  that 
the  First  Consul  never  spoke  of  my  mother  to  Madame 
Bonaparte,  except  when  she  herself  led  to  the  subject, 
which  she  was  not  fond  of  doing. 

After  taking  leave  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  we  proceeded 
by  the  staircase  of  the  Pavilion  of  Flora  to  the  apartments 
of  the  First  Consul.  The  aid-de-camp  in  waiting  observed 
that  the  hour  of  admission  was  past.  <(  But  I  have  an 
appointment, *  said  Junot.  w  And  madame  ? *  asked  the 
aid-de-camp.  He  was  the  unfortunate  Lacue"e,  killed  at 
Austerlitz,  nephew  of  the  Comte  de  Cessac,  and  cousin  of 
M.  de  Beausset. 

<(  We  are  too  recently  married,  my  friend,8  replied  Junot, 
<(  to  be  more  than  one  and  the  same  person ;  therefore 
announce  me,  if  you  please ;  and  though  ladies  do  not  often 
come  to  trouble  your  hermitage,  show  that  you  know  how 
to  be  gallant,  and  give  my  wife  your  arm.*  When  the 
door  was  opened,  and  the  First  Consul  saw  me,  he  said, 
smiling  very  good-humoredly,  <(  What  means  this  family 
deputation?  —  there  is  only  Madame  Permon  wanting  to 
its  completion.  Is  she  afraid  of  the  Tuileries,  or  of  me  ?  * 


DUCHESS  OF   ABBANTES  345 

"  General, "  said  my  husband  immediately,  <(  Madame  Per- 
mon  would  gladly  have  joined  us,  but  she  is  very  ill,  and 
finds  it  impossible  to  leave  her  chamber  to  come  to  re- 
quest a  favor  of  you,  which  she  is  very  desirous  to 
obtain.  My  wife  is  charged  to  address  to  you  her  petition 
in  form." 

The  First  Consul  turned  toward  me  with  a  smile  say- 
ing, "  Well,  let  me  hear.  What  do  you  wish  for  ? "  It  is 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  describe  the  charm  of  his 
countenance  when  he  smiled  with  a  feeling  of  benevo- 
lence. His  soul  was  upon  his  lips  and  in  his  eyes.  The 
magic  power  of  that  expression  at  a  later  period  is  well 
known;  the  Emperor  of  Russia  had  experienced  it  when 
he  said  to  me,  (<  I  never  loved  anyone  more  than  that 
man ! " 

I  told  the  General  what  had  been  agreed  upon,  and  had 
scarcely  ended  my  little  harangue,  when  he  took  my  two 
hands,  and  said,  (<  Well,  I  shall  certainly  be  at  this  ball. 
Did  you  expect  I  should  refuse  ?  I  shall  go  most  will- 
ingly. "  Then  he  added  a  phrase  which  he  often  repeated : 
"Though  I  shall  be  in  the  midst  of  my  enemies;  for 
your  mother's  drawing-room,  they  tell  me,  is  full  of  them. " 

Junot  now  made  a  sign  to  us  to  take  leave ;  we  accord- 
ingly made  our  parting  salutations,  and  the  First  Consul, 
after  pressing  my  brother's  hand  with  as  much  cordiality 
as  if  we  were  still  in  my  father's  house,  inquired  on  what 
day  this  ball  should  take  place.  <(  Next  Monday,  General ; 
it  is,  I  believe,  the  loth  of  November." 

"What!  the  icth  of  November,"  said  the  First  Consul, 
going  to  his  escritoire ;  w  that  seems  to  me  to  be  some 
particular  day ;  let  me  see ; "  and  as  he  spoke  he  found 
the  calendar  he  was  seeking.  <(  I  thought  so,  *  he  added, 
on  consulting  it.  "The  icth  of  November  is  the  anni- 
versary of  the  1 8th  Brumaire,  and  I  cannot  join  a  party 
on  that  day.  Your  mother  will  have  no  company;  your 
acquaintance  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain  will  cer- 
tainly not  quit  their  retreats  to  make  a  festival  of  the 
anniversary  of  the  re-establishment  of  the  Republic. 
What  concerns  me  personally,"  and  his  countenance  as 
he  spoke  assumed  an  expression  serious  and  severe,  *  is 
of  little  consequence,  but  I  must  see  the  Republic  re- 
spected; it  would  not,  therefore,  be  suitable  that  the 
anniversary  of  the  day  which  restored  it  to  us  entire 


346  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

should  be  celebrated  otherwise  than  as  a  family  festival. 
I  do  not  refuse  Madame  Permon's  invitation  if  you  will 
name  another  day. " 

The  change  was  immediately  resolved  upon,  and  he 
himself  named  the  izth  of  November.  (<  Do  you  receive 
Josephine  ?  w  he  inquired.  I  answered  that  Madame  Bona- 
parte had  accepted  for  herself  and  her  daughter  the  in- 
vitation which  my  mother,  to  her  great  regret,  had  not 
been  able  to  give  in  person. 

<c  Oh,  I  have  no  doubt  but  Madame  Permon  is  ill,w  said 
the  First  Consul ;  <(  but  there  is  idleness,  if  not  some 
other  motive,  which  I  will  not  mention  in  her  absence. 
Is  there  not,  Madame  Loulou  ? w  And  so  saying,  he 
pulled  my  ear  and  hair  till  he  made  my  eyes  water, 
which  I  was  not  sorry  for,  as  it  furnished  an  excuse  for 
not  answering  this  blunt  interpolation,  and  for  the  color 
which  flushed  my  cheeks.  While  this  was  passing  be- 
tween us  and  the  future  master  of  the  world,  another 
scene  took  place  in  the  apartments  of  Madame  Bonaparte 
below  stairs. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  paid  his  court  very  attentively  to 
Madame  Bonaparte;  an  old  friendship  or  relationship 
between  them  was  connected  with  a  remembrance  of 
protection  on  his  part,  and  of  gratitude  on  hers.  She 
was,  in  consequence,  on  very  good  terms  with  my  adopted 
godfather,  and  almost  every  morning  the  pony,  with  its 
velvet  saddle  and  gilded  bridle,  trotted  from  the  Rue  des 
Capuchins  to  the  Tuileries. 

Here  it  arrived  on  the  morning  of  our  visit,  just  as 
we  had  left  Madame  Bonaparte,  and  the  conversation 
naturally  falling  upon  the  invitation  we  had  brought,  M. 
de  Caulaincourt,  to  whom  my  mother  had  related  all 
that  had  passed  on  the  preceding  night,  glorying  in 
the  firm  stand  she  had  made  in  favor  of  a  written 
invitation,  unceremoniously  accused  me  of  having  mis- 
taken my  instructions,  and  very  innocently  repeated  to 
Madame  Bonaparte  all  that  he  had  learned  from  my 
mother,  of  whose  plans  he  perfectly  approved.  This 
unlucky  incident  produced  a  rather  awkward  de"noue- 
ment  on  our  return  to  the  salon;  but  our  apologies  were 
graciously  accepted,  and  whether  or  not  the  truth  ever 
reached  the  ears  of  the  First  Consul  it  produced  no 
visible  result. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  347 

My  mother  easily  perceived  that  it  would  be  ridiculous 
for  her  to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  the  i8th  Brumaire; 
the  change  which  we  had  made  in  the  day  consequently 
received  her  perfect  acquiescence,  and  passed  off  without 
any  observation. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

The  Ball  and  the  Flowers  —  The  First  Country-Dance — Mademoiselle 
de  Beauharnais,  Mademoiselle  de  Perigord,  Mademoiselle  de 
Caseaux  and  Myself  —  The  Minuet  de  la  Reine  and  the  Gavotte 
—  The  Fine  Dancers — Madame  Leclerc  and  the  Toilet  of  Madame 
Bonaparte  —  Noise  of  Horses  and  the  Arrival  of  the  First  Consul  — 
The  Dance  Interrupted  —  The  First  Consul's  Gray  Overcoat  —  Long 
Conversation  between  the  First  Consul  and  M.  de  Talleyrand  — 
M.  Laffitte  and  the  Three-Cornered  Hat  — M.  de  Trenis  and  the 
Grand  Bow  —  The  First  Consul  Listening  to  a  Dancing  Lesson  — 
Bonaparte  Not  Fond  of  Long  Speeches  —  Interesting  Conversation 
between  Bonaparte  and  My  Mother — Jerome,  His  Debts,  His  Beard, 
and  Superfluous  Traveling  Case. 

ALL  was  preparation  in  my  mother's  house  for  the 
expected  ball,  v^hich  she  intended  should  be  one  of 
the  most  agreeable  to  be  given  this  year  in  Paris. 
Our  friends  also  looked  forward  to  it  with  impatience.  My 
mother  had  already  refused  the  requests  of  about  forty 
men  and  twelve  women  for  tickets.  She  was  delighted 
when  such  requests  were  made  to  her.  The  arrange- 
ments for  ornamenting  the  house  were  perfect;  and 
when  at  length  all  the  trees,  plants,  and  flowers  assumed 
the  places  her  taste  appointed  them,  and  innumerable 
lights  shone  among  them  from  lamps  of  every  color,  the 
staircase  and  hall  perfectly  resembled  an  enchanted 
palace. 

Madame  Bonaparte  arrived  about  nine  o'clock,  accom- 
panied by  her  son  and  daughter,  and  led  by  Colonel 
Rapp.  My  mother  met  her  in  the  middle  of  the  dining- 
room;  the  other  ladies  she  received  at  the  door  of  the 
salon.  She  was  polite  and  gracious  to  everyone,  as  she 
so  well  knew  how  to  be.  She  conducted  Madame  Bona- 
parte to  the  armchair  on  the  right  of  the  fireplace,  and 
begged  her,  with  the  hospitable  grace  of  the  South,  to 


348  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

make  herself  perfectly  at  home.  She  must  have  appeared 
to  her,  what  she  actually  was,  a  very  agreeable  and 
charming  woman. 

My  mother  was,  perhaps,  the  prettiest  woman  in  the 
room,  after  the  First  Consul's  two  sisters.  She  had  been 
for  some  time  in  better  health,  and  the  respite  from  suf- 
fering had  restored  to  her  features  that  harmony  and 
regularity  in  which  her  beauty  consisted.  She  wore  on 
that  evening  a  dress,  made  by  Madame  Germon,  of  white 
crape,  trimmed  with  bunches  of  double  jonquils.  Its 
form  was  Grecian,  folding  over  the  bosom,  and  fastened 
on  the  shoulders  with  two  diamond  clasps.  Her  head- 
dress had  a  degree  of  eccentricity  in  its  composition  which 
became  her  admirably. 

As  she  could  not,  or  rather  did  not,  choose  to  appear 
on  the  occasion  of  my  marriage  with  her  hair  wholly  un- 
covered, she  had  a  toque  of  white  crape  ( made  by  Leroi, 
who  then  lived  in  the  Rue  des  Petits-Champs,  and  had 
already  acquired  some  reputation),  through  the  folds  of 
which  her  fine  black  hair  appeared,  resembling  velvet, 
intermingled  with  bunches  of  jonquil,  like  those  which 
trimmed  her  gown.  She  wore  in  her  bosom  a  large  bou- 
quet of  jonquils  and  natural  violets,  furnished  by  Madame 
Roux,  but  exhibited  neither  necklace  nor  jewels  of  any 
kind  except  two  very  fine  diamond  drops  in  her  ears. 
This  attire  was  set  off  by  a  person  whose  elegance  of 
figure  and  manner  were  at  least  her  most  striking  orna- 
ment. 

At  a  quarter  before  nine  o'clock  Junot  went  to  the 
Tuileries  to  be  ready  to  attend  the  First  Consul  to  my 
mother's,  but  found  him  so  overwhelmed  with  business 
that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  name  the  hour  at  which 
he  could  arrive ;  but  he  was  desired  to  request  as  a  favor 
that  the  dancing  might  commence,  the  First  Consul  giv- 
ing his  assurance  that  he  would  certainly  come,  however 
late  he  might  be  compelled  to  make  his  visit. 

The  ball,  then,  was  opened  at  half-past  nine.  Junot 
danced  with  Mademoiselle  de  Beauharnais,  Eugene  de 
Beauharnais  with  me,  Hippolyte  de  Rastignac  with  Made- 
moiselle de  Caseaux,  and  Mademoiselle  de  P with 

M.  Dupaty.  M.  de  Trenis  was  not  yet  arrived,  nor  M. 
Laffitte.  These  gentlemen  were  at  this  time  in  the  ex- 
treme of  everything  that  is  inconceivable;  and  to  join  a 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfeS  349 

party  at  two  or  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  was  nothing 
unusual  with  them. 

I  had  this  evening,  in  the  opinion  of  my  mother  and 
all  our  old  friends,  an  important  duty  to  fulfill:  it  was 
to  dance  the  minuet  de  la  cour  and  the  gavotte.  For 
three  weeks  Gardel's  long  lessons  had  been  renewed,  that 
this  minuet,  which  with  my  whole  soul  I  detested,  might 
be  executed  in  perfection.  I  had  entreated  my  mother 
to  spare  me  this  painful  exhibition,  but  to  no  purpose. 
Not  to  dance  the  minuet  de  la  Reine  at  a  bridal  ball  would 
have  been  a  dereliction  of  all  established  customs,  which 
she  could  not  by  any  means  sanction. 

M.  de  Trim's  belonged  to  our  society:  he  was  a  worthy 
man,  and  far  from  meriting  the  character  which  he  gave 
himself  of  being  nothing  but  a  dancer.  He  possessed 
much  information  and  some  wit;  natural  good  sense  and 
a  correct  judgment,  very  capable  of  appreciating  the 
ridiculous  extravagance  of  his  own  words;  that  of  his 
dress,  though  in  the  height  of  fashion,  was  by  no  means 
so  exaggerated.  As  of  all  the  fine  dancers  of  the  day,  he 
was  the  one  with  whom  we  were  the  most  acquainted,  I 
had  engaged  him  to  dance  the  minuet  de  la  cour  with  me, 
hoping  to  be  less  timid  with  him  than  with  M.  Laffitte 
or  M.  Dupaty. 

At  half -past  ten  General  Bonaparte  was  not  arrived; 
everyone  else  was,  and  the  five  rooms  in  my  mother's 
suite  of  apartments  were  much  more  than  conveniently 
crowded.  All  the  Bonaparte  family  except  Joseph,  who, 
I  believe,  was  then  at  Luneville,  came  early. 

Madame  Leclerc,  always  beautiful  and  elegant,  had 
taken  her  seat  at  a  distance  from  her  sister-in-law, 
whose  exquisite  taste  in  dress  never  failed  to  put  her 
out  of  conceit  with  her  own  appearance,  how  carefully 
soever  her  toilet  had  been  performed.  tt  I  do  not  under- 
stand,* said  she  to  me,  <(how  a  person  forty  years  old 
can  wear  garlands  of  flowers!  w 

Madame  Bonaparte  had  a  wreath  of  poppies  and  golden 
ears  of  corn  upon  her  head,  and  her  dress  was  trimmed 
with  the  same.  I  was  afraid  that  she  would  foolishly 
make  the  same  compliment  to  my  mother,  and  unwilling 
that  a  stupid  remark  should  spoil  the  pleasure  of  the 
evening,  I  answered  that  my  mother,  who  was  older  than 
Madame  Bonaparte,  had  also  flowers  on  her  head  and 


350  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

round  her  gown.  Madame  Leclerc  looked  at  me  with  an 
air  of  astonishment.  (<  But  it  is  quite  different  —  quite  a 
different  thing, w  said  she. 

At  a  few  minutes  before  eleven  the  trampling  of  the 
First  Consul's  horse  guards  was  heard.  Very  soon  after- 
ward the  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  almost 
immediately  he  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the  dining- 
room  with  Albert  and  Junot,  who  had  received  him  in 
the  hall.  My  mother  advanced  toward  him,  and  saluted 
him  with  her  most  courteous  obeisance,  to  which  he 
replied  with  a  smile: 

<(  Eh,  Madame  Permon,  is  that  how  you  receive  an  old 
friend  ? })  and  held  out  his  hand.  My  mother  gave  him 
hers,  and  they  entered  the  ballroom  together.  The  heat 
was  excessive.  The  First  Consul  remarked  it,  but  with- 
out taking  off  his  gray  overcoat,  and  was  on  the  point 
of  making  the  tour  of  the  room,  but  his  searching  eye 
had  already  observed  that  many  of  the  ladies  present  had 
not  risen  at  his  entrance;  he  was  offended,  and  passed 
immediately  into  the  bedroom,  still  retaining  my  mother's 
arm,  and  appearing  to  look  at  her  with  admiration. 

Dancing  had  been  discontinued  as  soon  as  he  appeared, 
and  Bonaparte  soon  perceived  it  by  the  stillness  of  the 
salon,  from  whence  issued  only  the  murmuring  sounds 
produced  by  the  observations  made  upon  him  in  an 
undertone. 

<(Pray,  Madame  Permon, »  said  he,  <(let  the  dancing  be 
resumed;  young  people  must  be  amused,  and  dancing  is 
their  favorite  pastime.  I  am  told,  by  the  by,  that  your 
daughter  dances  as  well  as  Mademoiselle  Chameroi.  I 
must  see  it.  And  if  you  will,  you  and  I  will  dance  the 
Monaco  —  the  only  one  I  know. w 

(<  I  have  not  danced  these  thirty  years, w  replied  my 
mother. 

(<Oh,  you  are  jesting.  You  look  to-night  like  your 
daughter's  sister. w 

M.  de  Talleyrand  was  of  the  party.  The  First  Consul, 
after  having  spoken  to  us  all  in  the  most  agreeable  man- 
ner, entered  into  a  conversation  with  him  in  my  mother's 
bedroom,  which  lasted  without  interruption  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour.  Toward  midnight  he  returned  to 
the  salon,  and  appeared  determined  to  make  himself  per- 
fectly agreeable  to  everyone. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  351 

How  great  soever  my  reluctance  to  dance  this  unfor- 
tunate minuet,  I  had  no  choice  but  to  answer  to  the 
summons  of  my  mother,  who,  without  concerning  herself 
whether  I  was  maid  or  wife,  expected  me  to  be  always 
obedient  to  her  commands.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
myself  safe.  M.  de  Tre"nis  was  called  for,  but  could  no- 
where be  found.  I  went  to  tell  my  mother,  but  gained 
nothing.  M.  Laffitte  was  requested  to  supply  his  place. 
He  had  no  hat;  my  mother  soon  found  him  one. 

All  these  difficulties  removed,  I  at  length  went  through 
the  dreaded  minuet,  having  whispered  to  Gardel  not  to 
allow  the  gavotte  to  be  played,  and  reckoned  my  last 
courtesy  a  real  happiness.  M.  Laffitte  was  reconducting 
me  to  my  seat,  holding  in  one  hand  an  enormous  three- 
cornered  hat  that  he  had  borrowed  of  I  know  not  whom, 
and  leading  me  with  the  other,  when  we  met  M.  de 
Tre*nis.  He  looked  at  me  with  so  terrible  an  air  that  I 
became  uneasy  for  the  consequences  of  having  danced 
the  minuet  with  another  person.  I  told  him  mildly  that 
I  had  waited  till  past  midnight,  and  that  my  mother  had 
at  length  required  that  I  should  dance  with  M.  Laffitte. 
w  I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  will  forget  this  nonob- 
servance  of  my  engagement,  and  particularly  as  your 
absence  was  its  sole  cause.* 

He  acquiesced  in  his  disappointment,  and,  seating  him- 
self between  my  friend  Mademoiselle  de  Merigny  and 
myself,  commenced  a  most  ludicrous  harangue  upon  the 
regret  he  experienced,  which  was  the  greater  on  account 
of  my  share  of  the  loss ;  <(  for  I  shall  never,  never  forget  the 
spectacle  I  saw,w  added  he.  I  was  alarmed,  and  entreated 
an  explanation,  which,  after  listening  to  most  high-flown 
compliments  on  the  excellence  of  my  own  dancing,  I 
obtained  at  length  in  the  following  terms: 

(<  That  you  should  dance  a  minuet  with  a  man  —  a  good 
dancer,  no  doubt;  yes,  he  dances  well,  but  if  he  dance  a 
country  dance  well — he  never,  never  in  his  life,  knew 
how  to  make  the  grand  bow  with  the  hat  —  he  cannot 
make  the  grand  bow.8 

Mademoiselle  de  Merigny  and  I  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing. But  M.  de  Tre"nis  was  too  deep  in  his  subject  to 
attend  to  our  merriment.  <(  That  seems  to  surprise  you,w 
he  continued ;  (<  I  can  easily  believe  it.  Not  to  know  how 
to  put  on  one's  hat! — for  that  is  the  science — it  is  not 


352  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

difficult  to  explain — stay  —  give  me  leave. M  Then,  tak- 
ing us  both  by  the  hand,  he  led  us  to  my  mother's  room, 
where  there  were  but  few  persons,  and  placing  himself 
before  the  pier  glass,  hummed  the  close  of  the  minuet 
air,  and  began  the  salute  with  the  most  perfect  gravity, 
putting  on  his  cocked  hat  with  all  the  effect  so  impor- 
tant an  affair  demanded. 

The  laughing  fit  returned  with  redoubled  force;  but 
the  comedy  was  not  yet  complete.  Junot  had  joined  us, 
and  the  First  Consul,  whose  presence  had  not  as  yet 
caused  us  any  constraint  on  account  of  his  close  conver- 
sation with  M.  de  Talleyrand,  now  stepped  gently  behind 
M.  de  Tre"nis  to  share  the  amusement  with  which  this  origi- 
nal was  providing  us.  He  made  a  sign  to  Junot  to  engage 
him  in  conversation,  which  was  easy,  if  dancing  were  the 
subject,  provided,  however,  that  it  were  seriously  treated. 
For  he  never  laughed,  he  said,  unless  the  air  of  a 
country  dance  was  very  gay,  and  then  the  orchestra  com- 
pelled him  to  smile.  <(  How  do  you  agree  with  M.  Laf- 
fitte  ?  said  Junot,  with  as  serious  a  countenance  as  he 
could  command. 

<(  Why, ft  replied  he,  <(  as  well  as  two  men  of  talent  can 
be  supposed  to  agree  when  so  nearly  upon  an  equality. 
But  he  is  an  honest  fellow,  not  at  all  envious  of  my  suc- 
cess. It  is  true  that  his  own  may  well  render  him  in- 
dulgent. His  dance  is  lively  and  powerful.  He  has  the 
advantage  over  me  in  the  first  eight  measures  of  Pan- 
urge's  gavotte.  But  in  the  jetes!  oh!  there  he  has  no 
chance:  he  has  nerve,  but  I  have  grace.* 

The  First  Consul  opened  his  eyes  and  ears,  altogether 
unaccustomed  to  such  rant.  <(  It  is  prodigious,  *  said  he 
at  length ;  (<  this  man  is  much  more  irrational  than  many 
who  are  confined  in  mad  houses.  Is  he  a  friend  of 
yours? " 

(( Not  exactly ;  but  he  is  an  intimate  acquaintance  — 
that  is  to  say,  we  see  him  twice  a  week.  But,  except  at 
a  ball,  he  never  talks  of  dancing,  and  can  reason  clev- 
erly upon  the  manners  of  ancient  Greece ;  it  is  a  portion 
of  history  he  has  very  much  studied.  He  speaks  several 
languages,  and,  Albert  says,  is  worth  more  than  his 
reputation. w 

Bonaparte  never  listened  to  so  long  a  discourse ;  I  have 
learned  that  it  never  answered  to  make  long  speeches 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  353 

to  him.  He  had  returned  to  his  place  near  M.  de  Tal- 
leyrand; I  saw  by  the  direction  of  his  eyes  that  he  was 
speaking  of  M.  de  Tre"nis.  He  met  my  eyes  fixed  upon 
him,  and  called  me  to  him,  to  make  me  a  compliment 
on  my  mother's  ball;  his  praises  seemed  almost  a  re- 
proach. My  mother  had  been  perfectly  polite  to  him; 
but  it  appeared  to  me  that  she  should  have  been  more 
cordial. 

I  went  to  her,  and,  persuading  her  to  walk  with  me, 
led  her  toward  her  own  chamber,  where  I  found  the 
First  Consul  on  the  spot  where  I  had  quitted  him;  but 
Junot  and  M.  de  Villemanzy  had  replaced  M.  de  Talley- 
rand. As  soon  as  the  First  Consul  saw  my  mother,  he 
went  direct  to  her,  and  said,  <(  Well,  Madame  Permon, 
what  have  you  to  say  to  one  of  your  old  friends  ?  It 
seems  to  me  that  you  easily  forget  them.  Do  you  know, 
I  thought  you  very  hard  the  other  evening,  and  at  the 
very  time  one  of  your  friends  held  his  knife  in  readi- 
ness? w 

w  Oh,  horrible!*  exclaimed  my  mother;  "how  can 
you,  Napoleon,  say  such  things?  —  Per  Dio  tacete ! 
facet e  !  » 

<(  But  why  would  you  not  return  my  friendly  salute  ?  I 
took  the  first  moment  of  recognizing  you  to  make  it. w 

My  mother  alleged  the  weakness  of  her  eyes,  and  not 
without  cause,  for  they  became  very  useless  in  the  last 
years  of  her  life;  but  General  Bonaparte  would  not  be 
put  off  with  this  excuse.  <(  What  am  I  to  think?  *  said 
he;  "are  we  no  longer  friends?" 

<(  Non  posso  dimenticare,  caro  Napoleone,  che  siete  figlio 
dell' arnica ;  fratello  del  mio  buon  Giuseppe,  del  caro  Luci- 
ano, e  di  Pauletta*  —  The  First  Consul  made  a  move- 
ment, which  I  noticed,  and  replied  with  a  bitter  accent: 

(<  So,  then,  if  I  still  hold  a  place  in  your  regard,  I 
owe  it  to  my  mother  and  my  brothers.  It  may  well  be 
said  that  to  expect  friendship  from  a  woman  is  to  ex- 
pect the  sands  of  the  desert  to  remain  fixed." 

This  discussion  gave  me  pain;  it  seemed  that  my 
mother  remembered  that  unfortunate  quarrel  excited  by 
one  of  our  cousins,  who  never  could  indemnify  us  for 
the  affection  which  we  lost  through  his  means.  The 
First  Consul  walked  in  silence  toward  the  fire.  My 
mother  was  seated  upon  a  sofa  opposite  to  him,  her  arms 
23 


354  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

crossed  upon  her  bosom,  and  shaking  her  foot  in  the 
fashion  which  usually  preceded  a  violent  scene.  Albert, 
going  to  and  fro  between  the  chamber  and  the  salon,  at 
this  moment  approached  General  Bonaparte  to  offer  him 
an  ice. 

<(  I  assure  you, w  said  he,  (<  that  neither  Madame  Permon 
nor  myself  require  ice  —  indeed,  I  believe  we  are  petri- 
fied; I  knew  very  well  that  absence  deadened  remem- 
brance, but  not  to  such  a  point  as  this. >}  He  touched  an 
unlucky  string. 

(<  Truly ! w  said  my  mother,  with  a  constrained  smile, 
but  with  her  lips  sufficiently  opened  to  show  her  two- 
and- thirty  pearls  (on  which  General  Bonaparte  cast  his 
eyes ;  he  spoke  of  them  to  me  the  following  day ) ;  — 
<(  truly !  one  may  be  permitted  to  forget  after  an  interval 
of  some  years.  Did  you  not  wish  to  persuade  me  that  it 
was  difficult  to  remember,  after  a  few  days,  an  action 
which  affected  the  fate  of  an  entire  life  ? w 

<(  Ah !  w  exclaimed  the  First  Consul,  and  his  counte- 
nance darkened  in  an  instant.  He  knit  that  brow,  the 
movement  of  which  already  agitated  the  universe;  his 
under  lip  pressed  strongly  against  the  other;  and,  joining 
his  hands  behind  him,  he  walked  a  few  paces  without 
speaking;  but  all  this  was  scarcely  visible,  as  Junot  and 
my  brother  told  me,  when  I  returned  from  joining  in  a 
country-dance.  The  First  Consul  promptly  resumed  his 
air  of  serenity,  and,  seating  himself  beside  my  mother, 
looked  attentively  at  her  hand,  which  he  had  taken  to 
kiss. 

<(  It  seems  to  me  that  you  do  not  correct  any  of  your 
faults,  Madame  Permon  ? w  and  he  pointed  to  the  bitten 
nails  of  her  fingers. 

<(  No, w  said  my  mother,  <(  they  and  I  have  grown  old 
together.  Leave  all  in  its  place;  it  is  only  you  who  are 
forbidden  to  remain  as  you  are;  you  have  still  so  many 
steps  to  climb  before  you  reach  the  summit  of  your 
glory  that  to  wish  you  repose  would  be  to  wish  harm  to 
ourselves.  * 

<(  Do  you  really  think  as  you  speak  ?  * 

(<You  know  my  sincerity.  I  do  not  always  say  all  I 
think;  but  I  never  say  what  I  do  not  think.  Have  you 
forgotten  my  frankness  ?  w 

Bonaparte  took  my  mother's  hand  and  pressed  it  affec- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  355 

tionately.  At  this  moment  the  clock  struck  two.  He 
asked  for  his  carriage. 

"  Will  you  not  stay  supper  ?  *  asked  my  mother. 

<(  I  cannot  possibly, M  said  he,  with  an  accent  of  regret ; 
wbut  I  will  come  and  see  you  again.* 

My  mother  smiled,  and  shook  her  head  gently. 

(<  Why  that  smile  <•  do  you  doubt  me,  Madame  Permon  ? 
If  in  this  evening  either  of  us  has  doubted  the  friend- 
ship of  the  other,  I  do  not  think  it  is  I  who  should  be 
accused  of  having  caused  that  suspicion.  Yes,  I  shall 
come  and  see  you  again.  The  Signora  Laetitia  shall  bring 
me,  since  I  must  rest  my  claim  to  your  regard  upon  her, 
or  upon  Joseph,  or  upon  Lucien,  or  even  upon  Paulette; 
who  knows  ?  perhaps  upon  Jerome.  Speaking  of  that 
brave  little  citizen,  you  brought  him  up  well  while  I  was 
far  off.  I  find  him  willful,  and  willful  in  bad  things.  The 
Signora  Laetitia  spoils  him  so  totally  that  I  much  doubt 
whether  he  will  mend  where  he  now  is.8 

To  speak  of  Jerome  was  to  touch  another  chord  which 
vibrated  very  sensibly  on  my  mother's  ear.  (<  He  is  an 
excellent  lad,0  said  she — (<  all  warmth  of  heart,  and  good 
sentiments.  Jerome  is  a  true  sailor;  let  him  tan  himself 
in  the  sea  air,  and  he  will  return  to  you  a  Duguay-Trouin, 
or  at  least  a  Duquesne." 

This  was  not  the  only  time  in  the  course  of  the  even- 
ing that  my  mother  had  advanced  an  opinion  with  which 
she  was  not  perfectly  satisfied;  but  she  loved  Jerome,  I 
believe,  almost  as  well  as  she  loved  me,  and  her  parti- 
ality really  went  a  great  way.  The  First  Consul  was 
right  when  he  said  that  at  his  return  he  found  his  brother 
singularly  educated.  The  seniors  of  the  family  had  taken 
care  that  everything  should  be  in  good  order — that  is  to 
say,  Jerome  was  at  the  College  of  Juilly,  and  was  fre- 
quently visited  there  by  his  family;  but  he  still  more 
frequently  visited  Paris  himself  to  offer  the  respects  of  a 
young  gentleman  of  fourteen  to  Mademoiselle  Emilie 
and  Mademoiselle  Hortense  de  Beauharnais;  then  be- 
lieving himself  a  man,  the  studies  went  on  as  they  might. 

Jerome  and  I  were  of  the  same  age;  my  mother,  who 
coupled  with  his  birth  the  unhappy  circumstances  of  the 
death  of  M.  Charles  Bonaparte,  loved  him  so  much  the 
more.  In  general,  she  had  a  warm  affection  for  all 
the  brothers,  but  had  her  preferences  among  them  as 


356  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

among  the  sisters.  Madame  Leclerc  was  her  favorite, 
and  to  such  a  degree  that  I,  who  could  not  share  her 
prejudice,  often  had  warm  discussions  with  her  on  the 
subject,  in  which  perhaps  jealousy  might  have  its  share. 

At  that  time  I  loved  Madame  Murat  the  best  of  Na- 
poleon's sisters,  and  Joseph  and  Lucien  were,  with  the 
First  Consul,  those  of  the  whole  family  whom  I  pre- 
ferred. Jerome  had  been  very  much  loved,  very  much 
spoiled,  not  only  by  my  mother,  but  by  my  brother,  and, 
indeed,  by  all  of  us.  I  did  not  find  that  when  he  ad- 
vanced in  life,  and  consequently  when  his  sentiments 
might  be  expected  to  develop  themselves,  he  was  to  my 
mother  in  particular  what  he  ought  to  have  been.  I  do 
not  accuse  him,  but  I  shall  have  future  occasion  to  prove 
that  I  was  not  mistaken.  But  this,  after  all,  is  no  crime. 

The  First  Consul  told  us,  while  speaking  of  Jerome, 
that  he  had  contracted  one  of  the  oddest  debts  that 
could  be  imagined  for  a  youth  of  fifteen.  The  First 
Consul  was  at  Marengo:  his  brother  was  already  in  the 
service,  but,  being  too  young  to  take  part  in  the  cam- 
paign, was  left  in  Paris.  On  the  return  of  the  First 
Consul,  Bourrienne  was  presented  with  a  number  of 
bills,  amounting  in  the  whole  to  a  considerable  sum,  the 
payment  of  which  was  pressing.  Among  others  Bien- 
nais  figured  for  eight  or  ten  thousand  francs.  Great 
inquiries  were  made,  and  many  reports  were  spread,  as 
to  how  so  large  a  debt  could  have  arisen  ? 

At  length  it  was  discovered  that  M.  Jerome  Bonaparte 
had  purchased  of  M.  Biennais,  Rue  Saint  Honore,  at  the 
siga  of  the  Singe  Violet,  a  magnificent  traveling  case 
containing  everything  that  could  be  invented  by  elegance 
and  luxury,  in  gold,  mother-of-pearl,  silver,  and  ivory,  the 
finest  porcelains,  and  the  most  beautifully  executed 
enamels;  in  short,  the  whole  was  a  jewel.  But  one  very 
essential  thing  was  wanting  to  this  dressing  case,  and  that 
was  a  beard  to  make  it  useful ;  for  whatever  it  contained 
would  admit  of  no  other  application.  Razors,  shaving 
pots  of  all  sizes  in  silver  and  china ;  combs  for  the  mous- 
taches ;  in  short,  every  article  of  convenience  for  shaving, 
but  the  beard  was  wanting;  and,  unfortunately,  the  young 
man  who  was  but  fifteen  had  some  long  years  to  wait  for 
it.  The  First  Consul  told  this  little  history  in  a  very 
entertaining  style. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  357 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

The  Tribunes  and  Long  Harangues  —  The  Consular  Court  and  the 
Roman  Forum  —  M.  Andrieux —  Lucien,  the  Author  of  the  i8th 
Brumaire  —  Depression  of  Lucien,  and  Remarkable  Visit  —  Lord 
Malmesbury  —  Madame  Bonaparte  and  Her  Brother-in-law — Em- 
barrassment of  the  First  Consul  —  Lucien  Announces  His  Departure 
—  The  Road  to  the  Throne — Lucien 's  Children  —  Secrecy  of  Lucien's 
Journey  —  The  Little  Beggar  —  Portrait  of  Lucien  —  The  Flechelle 
Family  and  Injustice  Repaired. 

AT  THE  period  of  my  marriage  the  Consular  Court  was 
rather  singularly  organized.  Its  arrangement  was 
somewhat  affected  by  the  strong  prejudices  of  the 
First  Consul.  He  wished  it  to  be  in  grand  style,  yet  was 
fearful  of  incurring  the  reproach  already  directed  against 
him  by  several  tribunes,  who,  mistaking  the  PALAIS  ROYAL 
(where  equality  no  longer  existed)  for  the  Roman  forum, 
delighted  in  making  long  harangues  in  which  Caesar, 
Brutus,  Pericles,  Solon,  Aristides,  and  Lycurgus  all  found 
a  place,  but  which  had  no  more  reference  to  the  unfortu- 
nate French  Republic  than  if  its  locality  was  beyond 
Tobolsk. 

Lucien,  immediately  after  the  i8th  Brumaire,  was  ap- 
pointed Minister  of  the  Interior.  It  is  unfortunate  that 
a  prejudice,  for  it  was  certainly  nothing  else,  prevented 
his  being  elected  Second  or  Third  Consul. 

At  first  sight,  the  participation  of  two  brothers  in  the 
Consulate  would  naturally  lead  to  the  conclusion  that 
but  one  would  direct  the  Executive;  whereas,  in  reality, 
the  national  interest  would  have  been  far  better  defended 
than  by  a  man  such  as  the  Consul  Lebrun,  who,  unques- 
tionably honest  himself,  was,  nevertheless,  too  readily  dis- 
posed to  affirm  every  proposition,  even  of  his  second, 
and  still  more  of  his  first  colleague. 

In  accomplishing  the  events  of  the  i8th  Brumaire,  at 
which  he  had  labored  with  an  influential  activity,  whose 
remembrance  should  never  have  deserted  Napoleon,  it 
cannot  be  doubted  that  Lucien  believed  his  brother 
would  confer  on  France  a  Government  that  should  render 
her  at  once  happy  at  home  and  great  and  formidable 
abroad.  As  for  war,  it  was  then  looked  upon  merely  as 


358  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

a  party  of  pleasure;  in  its  prosecution,  not  only  the 
glory  but  the  good  fortune  of  the  French  was  calculated 
upon  as  certain. 

In  the  interior,  on  the  other  hand,  misery  was  at  its 
height :  although  not  in  the  Consulate,  as  Minister  of  the 
Interior  much  was  in  Lucien's  power:  the  choice  of  pre- 
fects and  of  mayors;  new  municipal  laws  to  be  given  to 
the  communes;  the  whole  mode  of  election  to  be  re- 
formed; manufacturers  to  be  protected,  which  at  that 
time  were  everywhere  rising;  new  discoveries  to  be 
turned  to  account;  and  misery  to  be  relieved  by  employ- 
ment, the  only  alms  which  should  be  bestowed  on  the 
people  —  all  this  he  foresaw,  and  undertook  with  courage 
and  success.  But  he  soon  appeared  sad  and  unhappy. 
Obstacles  multiplied  around  him ;  he  had  spoken  of  them 
to  my  brother-in-law;  my  mother,  who  tenderly  loved 
him,  perceived  it  before  he  opened  the  subject.  Lucien 
was  unhappy,  and  doubly  so  through  the  means  of  his 
brother. 

But  in  justice  to  Bonaparte,  I  must  declare  that  he 
was  unworthily  deceived  with  respect  to  his  brother;  he 
was  persuaded  of  the  existence  of  facts  entirely  false. 
He  was  even  inspired  by  someone  with  uneasiness  for 
his  personal  safety.  He  never  yielded  to  these  suspicions, 
but  the  voice  which  accused  his  brother  was  one  very 
dear  to  him.  It  was  evident  that  he  sought  with  avidity 
everything  that  could  afford  him  a  ray  of  consolation 
amid  that  perplexing  obscurity  with  which  others  en- 
deavored to  fill  up  the  distance  that  fate  had  just  estab- 
lished between  the  two  brothers  —  an  interval  which 
Lucien  always  respected,  even  when  refusing  to  acknowl- 
edge it,  but  which  the  First  Consul  should  have  over- 
looked. A  violent  animosity  had,  however,  arisen  be- 
tween Madame  Bonaparte  and  her  brothers-in-law,  which 
not  only  interrupted  the  domestic  happiness  of  this  nu- 
merous family,  but  proved  in  the  end  a  source  of  the 
greatest  misfortune  to  herself. 

I  visited  my  mother  every  day,  and  frequently  dined 
with  her.  One  day  that  we  had  dined  alone,  Albert  and 
M.  de  Geouffre  being  both  absent,  we  had  scarcely  risen 
from  the  table  when  Lucien  arrived.  He  was  mourn- 
ful, very  serious,  and  appeared  in  deep  thought.  My 
mother  remarking  it,  he  admitted  it,  and  told  us  he  was 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  359 

on  the  eve  of  departure,  upon  which  my  mother  uttered 
an  exclamation.  (<  Did  not  you  know  it  ?  *  said  he ;  <(  I 
take  Geouffre  with  me." 

w  If  you  wish  to  let  me  know  your  affairs  by  my  son- 
in-law,"  replied  my  mother,  "command  him  to  communi- 
cate them,  for  when  you  are  in  question  he  is  a  true 
Malmesbury. M  * 

"  Yes,  I  am  going,  *  said  Lucien,  crossing  his  arms 
over  his  bosom,  and  contemplating  the  fire  with  that 
sombre  abstraction  which  indicates  deep  grief;  <(  I  am  go- 
ing! my  counsels  displease;  and,  moreover,  there  is  at 
present  a  barrier  between  Napoleon  and  me  which  can 
never  be  removed,  because  it  is  beneath  my  character  to 
justify  myself,  and  thereby  to  recognize  the  legality  of 
a  tribunal  which,  on  the  contrary,  I  challenge.  My 
brother  believes  the  perfidious  insinuations  of  a  woman, 
with  whom  he  ought  to  be  too  well  acquainted  to  sacri- 
fice his  family  to  her;  he  suspects  the  fidelity  of  a  brother 
whose  devotedness  has  been  the  sole  means  of  opening 
to  him  the  road  to  a  throne." 

(<  To  a  throne !  "  cried  my  mother. 

Lucien  replied  only  by  a  smile,  at  once  melancholy  and 
expressive.  (<  Always  remember,  Madame  Permon, "  re- 
joined he,  <(  that  I  certainly  had  no  such  thoughts  on  the 
1 8th  and  igth  Brumaire." 

It  may  be  well  supposed  that,  in  speaking  afterward 
of  Lucien  to  the  First  Consul,  I  was  careful  not  to  re- 
peat this  part  of  the  conversation. 

<(  Are  you  going  far  ? "  inquired  my  mother. 

(<  I  must  not  tell  you ;  I  ought  not  to  have  announced 
my  departure.  I  request  of  Madame  Junot  not  to  speak 
of  this  conversation  before  her  husband." 

*  Lord  Malmesbury  was  sent  on  a  special  mission  to  the  Directory 
from  England  in  the  year  vii.,  while  M.  de  Talleyrand  was  Minister 
for  Foreign  Affairs.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that  Lord  Malmesbury's 
instructions  were  not  very  extensive,  for  at  every  word  hazarded  by 
Talleyrand  —  who,  it  may  be  observed,  did  not  himself  waste  many 
—  Lord  Malmesbury  uniformly  replied :  «  Allow  me  to  write  home  re. 
specting  that.*  (  ^Permettez  quefen  derive  a  ma  cour.n)  And  as  we 
seldom  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the  ridiculous,  a  caricature  was  ex- 
hibited, in  which  Talleyrand,  stepping  up  to  the  English  Ambassa- 
dor, inquires  how  he  is;  and  Lord  Malmesbury  shows  him,  according 
to  the  custom  of  caricatures,  a  long  paper  inscribed  with  the  words: 
«  Permettez-moi  d'en  tcrire  d  ma  c0ur.» 


360  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

Some  days  afterward  Lucien  quitted  Paris.  A  car- 
riage, containing  Arnaud,  a  miniature  painter  named 
Chatillon,  and  M.  Felix  Desporte,  preceded  him,  and  took 
the  road  to  Amiens,  while  Lucien,  in  his  berlin,  with  my 
brother-in-law,  set  out  toward  Bordeaux.  He  had  with 
him  his  two  little  girls,  the  youngest  of  whom  was  still 
in  arms;  and  on  these  two  little  beings  he  lavished  all 
the  cares  of  the  most  attentive  woman. 

My  mother,  learning  that  he  was  going  to  take  his 
children,  advised  him  to  leave  them  with  the  kind  and 
excellent  Madame  Joseph;  but  at  the  first  word  Lucien, 
starting  from  his  chair,  exclaimed :  (<  No,  no ;  I  will  not 
leave  my  children  here;  do  not  talk  to  me  of  separating 
from  them!  I  may  be  accused  of  levity,  of  easy  morals, 
but  at  least,  neither  mother,  brothers,  children,  nor 
friends,  shall  ever  have  occasion  to  reproach  my  heart.* 
He  was  much  agitated;  my  mother  embraced  him  and 
said,  <(  Well,  you  are  right ;  take  these  poor  little  ones ; 
they  are  no  longer  blessed  with  a  mother,  and  a  fond 
father  can  alone  supply  her  loss. M 

A  messenger  was  dispatched  after  the  carriage,  which 
was  journeying  toward  Amiens;  it  changed  its  course, 
and  rejoined  Lucien  near  Bordeaux.  I  know  not  the 
cause  of  all  this  mystery;  perhaps  it  was  designed  to 
conceal  from  Austria,  with  whom  negotiations  were  being 
carried  on,  the  mission  of  the  First  Consul's  brother  as 
Ambassador  to  Spain.  This  could  not,  indeed,  be  kept 
secret  above  seven  or  eight  days,  but  that  is  much  in 
diplomatic  relations;  I  state  the  facts  as  they  occurred: 
Lucien  arrived  at  Madrid,  and  replaced  there  two  men 
whose  abilities,  when  compared  with  his,  made  a  very 
MEDIOCRE  appearance ;  these  were  Berthier  and  Alquier. 

Some  time  after  the  departure  of  Lucien  an  affair  was 
much  talked  of,  and  his  enemies  would  fain  have  mis- 
represented it;  but  the  following  is  the  exact  truth. 
The  ages  of  the  children  are  particularly  accurate,  a 
matter  of  some  importance  to  the  good  or  evil  aspect  of 
the  story. 

A  boy,  eleven  years  of  age,  neatly  dressed,  was  stand- 
ing in  the  Rue  Des  Petits  Champs,  near  the  Place  Ven- 
dome,  and  asking  alms  of  persons  in  whose  physiognomy 
he  could  descry  a  more  than  common  share  of  humanity. 
A  young  man,  wrapped  up  in  a  large  blue  greatcoat, 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  361 

with  knit  pantaloons  of  gray  silk,  a  round  hat,  and  gold 
spectacles,  casually  looked  upon  the  child  as  he  passed. 
There  was  kindness  in  his  countenance,  and  his  smile 
emboldened  the  poor  little  importunate  to  hold  out  his 
hand;  the  gentleman  frowned,  yet  gave  him  a  coin  of 
douze  sous  (sixpence). 

<(  Why  do  you  beg,  child  ? M  said  he  in  a  severe  tone. 
The  poor  child  began  to  cry,  pointing  with  his  finger  to 
a  woman  and  two  little  girls,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  ten, 
and  the  other  nine,  seated  on  the  stone  bench  of  the 
house  which  then  stood  in  a  little  recess,  where  the  pas- 
sage to  the  Jacobin  market  now  is. 

"These  are  my  mother  and  sisters,  *  said  he,  sobbing. 
<(  My  father  is  very  ill,  and  I  have  a  little  brother 
younger  than  my  sisters;  I  cannot  work,  and  we  must 
eat,  and  give  my  father  his  barley  water:  how  can  this 
be  done  if  I  do  not  beg  ? }> 

The  gentleman,  overcome  with  such  a  tale  of  misery, 
approached  the  woman,  asked  her  some  questions,  and, 
having  taken  her  address,  left  her  a  louis  d'or. 

On  his  return  to  the  Home  Department,  Lucien,  who 
has  no  doubt  been  recognized  in  the  portrait  I  have  just 
drawn,  charged  a  confidential  person  to  make  inquiries 
respecting  the  Fle"chelle  family.  The  result  of  these  in- 
quiries was  not  only  satisfactory,  but  of  a  nature  to 
extort  a  blush  from  the  Government,  had  it  been  pos- 
sible for  the  Directory  to  blush  for  its  evil  deeds.  ¥16- 
chelle  had  been  employed  in  the  grant  office,  where  his 
conduct  was  irreproachable,  but  in  consequence  of  one 
of  those  intrigues  too  common  under  a  venal  Government 
he  was  dismissed  without  pension  or  indemnity;  and,  as 
security  against  his  complaints,  was  culumniated  to  the 
Minister  of  the  day,  who  refused  even  to  see  him. 

This  man  had  four  children,  and  from  an  easy  com- 
petence his  family  were  suddenly  plunged  into  absolute 
destitution.  Overwhelmed  with  grief,  the  vigilance  of 
his  wife  alone  defeated  an  attempt  at  suicide,  and  soon 
remorse  occasioned  an  illness.  Lucien  the  next  day  sent 
them,  through  his  confidential  agent,  a  hundred  francs, 
and  an  abundant  provision  of  sugar,  coffee,  candles,  oil, 
etc.,  a  cartload  of  wood,  and  a  sack  of  coals:  he  also 
conferred  on  Flechelle,  as  a  just  indemnity,  the  brevet 
of  a  place  at  the  barrieres,  worth  two  thousand  francs. 


362  MEMOIRS   OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

The  agitating  joy  of  the  news  proved  too  much  for 
the  father,  enfeebled  by  long  illness;  he  died,  and  left 
his  family  again  exposed  to  misery.  Lucien,  immersed 
in  cares  at  the  moment  of  his  departure  for  Spain,  was 
unable  then  to  assist  them,  but  the  excellent  Mrs.  Anson, 
meeting  with  this  desolate  family,  became  a  second  con- 
soling and  succoring  angel  to  them. 

Attempts  were  made  to  report  the  story  at  Malmaison 
in  a  very  different  light :  I  took  the  liberty  of  represent- 
ing the  truth.  <(  The  young  girls  are  not  sixteen  or 
seventeen  years  of  age,w  said  I  to  Madame  Bonaparte, 
<(for  I  have  seen  them."  <(  Then  I  have  been  deceived,* 
replied  she;  (<but  you  have  much  affected  me  by  the 
misfortunes  of  this  poor  family;  give  me  Madame  Fle- 
chelle's  address,  for  I  will  send  to  her  to-morrow;  I  wish 
to  have  my  part  in  the  good  work. w  She  sent  them,  I 
believe,  forty  francs.  Madame  Bonaparte  was  often  com- 
passionate, but  the  indiscriminate  nature  of  her  protection 
and  her  recommendations  often  made  her  ridiculous,  even 
in  the  eyes  of  those  to  whom  she  was  benevolent. 


CHAPTER   L. 

Madame  Bonaparte's  Apartments  —  Functions  of  M.  de  Benezeck  and 
the  Republicans  —  The  Aids-de-Camp  —  Chamberlains  —  The  Grand 
Dinners  at  the  Tuileries  —  Improvement  of  Morals  —  The  Ladies  of 
the  Emigration  —  Installation  at  the  Tuileries  —  The  Two  Proces- 
sions —  General  Lannes's  Broth  —  The  Fortnightly  Parades  —  Inter- 
course of  the  First  Consul  with  the  Soldiers  —  My  Cashmere  Shawl, 
and  My  Father-in-law's  Watch  —  The  Swedish  Minister  and  the 
Batiste  Handkerchief — Bonaparte,  a  Drummer,  and  the  Saber  of 
Honor  —  The  Baron  d'Ernsworth  —  The  King  of  Spain's  Horses  — 
The  Diplomatic  Corps  in  1800  —  M.  de  Lucchesini  and  the  Italian 
Harangue. 

MADAME    BONAPARTE  occupied   the  whole  ground  floor 
of  the  Tuileries,  which  was  afterward  her  residence 
as  Empress,  and  also  that   of   Maria  Louisa.     Ad- 
joining   her   dressing  room  was    the   small    apartment  of 
Mademoiselle    de    Beauharnais,    consisting    of    her    bed- 
chamber, and  a  study  scarcely  of  sufficient  dimensions  to 
render  the  smell  of   her    oil  paints   endurable,  when  she 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  363 

this  winter*  painted  her  brother's  portrait.  The  apart- 
ments of  Madame  Bonaparte  were  furnished  tastefully, 
but  without  luxury;  the  great  reception  salon  was  hung 
with  yellow  draperies;  the  movable  furniture  was  damask, 
the  fringes  of  silk,  and  the  wood  mahogany.  No  gold 
was  to  be  seen.  The  other  rooms  were  not  more  richly 
decorated:  all  was  new  and  elegant,  but  no  more.  The 
apartments  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  however,  were  destined 
only  for  private  parties  and  morning  visits. 

The  larger  assemblies  were  held  upstairs.  As  yet 
there  was  neither  Chamberlain  nor  Prefect  of  the  Palace ; 
an  old  Counselor  of  State,  formerly  Minister  of  the 
Interior,  M.  de  Benezeck,  was  charged  with  the  internal 
administration  of  the  palace,  which  was  at  first  a  little 
difficult  to  introduce  among  what  remained  of  true 
Republicanism.  The  functions  of  M.  de  Benezeck  em- 
braced those  afterward  divided  between  the  Grand  Cham- 
berlain and  the  Master  of  the  Ceremonies.  The  mat f res 
d'hotel  and  ushers  performed  the  subaltern  offices, 
and  the  aides-de-camp  supplied  the  place  of  chamber- 
lains. 

The  First  Consul  was  in  the  habit  of  inviting  two 
hundred  persons  every  ten  days  to  dine  with  him.  These 
dinners  were  given  in  the  Gallery  of  Diana,  and  the 
guests  were  of  all  ranks  and  classes,  always  including 
the  Diplomatic  Body,  which  at  this  time  was  become 
tolerably  numerous.  The  wives  of  civil  functionaries,  of 
generals  and  colonels,  formed  the  society,  for  as  yet  no 
one  ventured  to  say  the  Court,  of  Madame  Bonaparte. 
The  General  was  rigid  in  the  choice  he  made,  not  for 
his  quintidian  routs,  but  for  the  private  and  frequent 
invitations  to  Malmaison,  and  afterward  to  Saint  Cloud. 
It  is  a  fact,  which  only  prejudiced  minds  will  dispute, 
that  the  First  Consul  wished  to  perpetuate,  as  far  as  lay 
in  his  power,  the  amelioration  of  morals  produced  by  the 
Revolution.  This  will  perhaps  excite  a  smile  in  the  pe- 
rusal; nevertheless,  it  is  certain  that  the  morals  of  the 
existing  generation  have  been  retempered  by  the  Revo- 
lution. 

*  This  same  winter  of  1800  the  Tuileries  caught  fire,  and  Mademoiselle 
Beauharnais's  portrait  of  her  brother,  which  was  a  speaking  likeness, 
was  consumed.  The  fire  was  falsely  imputed  to  incendiaries,  but  was 
occasioned  by  ill-constructed  flues. 


364  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

In  1800,  when  the  Court  of  the  Tuileries  was  formed, 
society  wore  an  appearance  of  morality  and  domestic  virtue 
which  it  had  never  before  displayed  in  France.  The 
Noblesse,  or  what  was  at  length  by  common  consent 
denominated  the  FAUBOURG  SAINT  GERMAIN,  was  constrained 
to  follow  the  general  current,  although  here  again  some 
exceptions  were  known  in  ladies  who  founded  their  fame 
on  the  importation  of  follies  from  Brussels,  Coblentz, 
etc.,  and  afterward  from  England. 

Eventually,  the  Imperial  Court,  like  all  else  pertaining 
to  sovereignty,  spread  its  malign  influence.  It  was, 
however,  comparatively  but  little  open  to  censure,  as  the 
Emperor  exercised  a  magical  sway  over  every  woman 
admitted  to  his  Court. 

When  the  different  powers  had  adopted  the  new  Con- 
stitution proposed  after  the  i8th  Brumaire,  and  which  I 
believe  was  the  fourth  they  were  called  upon  to  sanction, 
the  Government  quitted  the  Luxembourg  for  the  Tui- 
leries. It  may  be  observed  that  the  First  Consul,  who 
had  at  first  lodged  the  Third  Consul  in  the  Pavilion  of 
Flora,  soon  retook  sole  possession  of  it,  and  M.  Lebrun, 
like  Cambaceres,  retired  to  the  occupation  of  a  private 
house.  The  whole  Consular  Triumvirate,  however,  was 
present  at  the  reception  of  ambassadors  or  of  national 
bodies.  The  3oth  Pluviose,  in  the  year  viii.  (ipth  Feb- 
ruary, 1800),  the  First  Consul  took  possession  of  the 
palace  of  the  kings,  which,  indeed,  from  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Revolution,  had  been  occupied  by  the  National 
Representatives.  At  this  time  the  Constitution  of  the 
1 8th  Brumaire  exalted  the  Consular  power  above  all 
other  national  authorities;  it  represented  in  itself  the 
French  people ;  and  such  an  authority  required  a  suitable 
abode. 

Anyone  who  had  witnessed  the  removal  from  the  Lux- 
embourg to  the  Tuileries  on  the  3oth  Pluviose  of  the 
year  viii.,  if  he  had  then  fallen  asleep  to  the  sound  of 
military  music,  playing  all  our  patriotic  airs,  and  had 
been  awakened  by  the  thunder  of  cannon  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  2d  of  December,  announcing  that  the  Em- 
peror Napoleon  was  about  to  be  crowned  by  the  Pope  in 
Notre  Dame,  would  have  discovered  a  curious  contrast 
between  the  two  processions.  In  the  first,  on  account  of 
the  scarcity  of  private  carriages  at  that  time  in  Paris, 


DUCHESS    OF   ABRANTES  365 

it  was  necessary  to  engage  for  councilors  of  state  and 
senators  hackney  coaches,  whose  numbers  were  covered 
with  white  paper,  producing  an  effect  far  more  ludicrous 
than  if  the  numbers  had  remained  visible. 

On  the  day  of  his  installation  at  the  Tuileries,  scarcely 
had  the  First  Consul  arrived  before  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  held  a  review  in  the  court  of  the  palace,  which  was 
not  then  surrounded  by  a  railing,  but  inclosed  by  ill- 
jointed  boards;  and  the  Place  du  Carrousel  was  then 
small  and  very  irregular.  The  change  was  rapid ;  a  word 
from  Napoleon  was  sufficient. 

The  First  Consul  admitted  that  he  was  happy  during 
his  reviews.  "  And  you,  too,  I  am  sure,  are  well  content 
while  I  am  with  your  conscripts, *  said  he  one  day  to 
General  Lannes.  (<  You  do  not  grumble  because  the 
parade  retards  our  dinner  for  an  hour. w  <(  Oh  dear  no!* 
replied  General  Lannes,  "it  is  all  alike  to  me,  whether  I 
eat  my  soup  warm  or  cold,  provided  you  will  set  us  to 
work  at  making  a  hot  broth  for  those  rascally  English.* 

He  had  an  aversion  for  the  English  that  I  have  never 
observed  in  any  other  general  of  the  Emperor's  army, 
even  of  those  who  had  fought  under  the  Republic. 

The  quintidians  (for  we  must  speak  the  language  of  the 
period)  were  chosen  for  reviews,  or  rather  for  parades, 
in  the  court  of  the  Tuileries.  These  parades  were  a 
spectacle  worth  seeing,  especially  during  the  Consulate. 
Under  the  Empire  they  might  be  more  magnificent;  but 
in  1800  their  splendor  was  wholly  national.  It  was  the 
glory  of  France  that  we  contemplated  in  those  squadrons 
and  battalions,  which,  whether  composed  of  conscripts  or 
veterans,  equally  impressed  with  fear  the  foreigner  who 
surveyed  them  from  the  windows  of  the  palace;  for  the 
ardor  of  the  young  troops  was  fostered  by  constantly  be- 
holding the  old  musketeers  of  the  Consular  Guard  cov- 
ered with  scars. 

The  First  Consul  took  pleasure  in  these  reviews,  which 
would  sometimes  occupy  him  for  five  hours  together, 
without  a  moment's  interval  of  repose.  All  the  regi- 
ments in  France  came  alternately  to  Paris  and  passed  in 
review  with  the  Guards  every  fortnight  at  noon.  The 
First  Consul  was  on  these  occasions  always  attended  by 
the  aid-de-camp  on  duty,  the  Minister  of  War,  the  Gen- 
eral commanding  the  first  Division,  and  the  Command- 


366  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

ant  of  Paris,  the  Commissary-General,  the  Commissaries 
of  War  attached  to  the  city  of  Paris;  in  short,  all  per- 
sons to  whom  orders  must  be  immediately  transmitted, 
in  case  the  First  Consul  should,  in  the  course  of  the  in- 
spection, find  any  alteration  or  improvement  requisite. 
By  this  means  no  delay  could  arise  in  the  communication 
of  orders:  everything  was  done  instantaneously  and 
satisfactorily,  for  it  was  well  understood  that  the  eye  of 
the  chief  closely  superintended  all,  and  that  if  punish- 
ment were  awarded  to  negligence,  punctuality  would  be 
duly  appreciated. 

Sometimes  he  galloped  along  the  ranks,  but  this  was 
rare;  he  never,  indeed,  sat  his  horse  unless  the  troops 
had  already  passed  in  review  and  he  was  satisfied  that 
nothing  was  wanting.  Even  then  he  would  address  a 
few  questions  to  two  or  three  soldiers  casually  selected; 
but  generally  after  riding  along  the  ranks  on  his  white 
horse  (le  Desire")  he  would  alight,  and  converse  with  all 
the  field  officers,  and  with  nearly  all  the  subalterns  and 
soldiers.  His  solicitude  was  extended  to  the  most  mi- 
nute particulars  —  the  food,  the  dress,  and  everything  that 
could  be  necessary  to  the  soldier,  or  useful  to  the  man, 
divided  his  attention  with  the  evolutions.  He  encouraged 
the  men  to  speak  to  him  without  restraint.  (<  Conceal 
from  me  none  of  your  wants, w  he  would  say  to  them; 
<(  suppress  no  complaints  you  may  have  to  make  of  your 
superiors.  I  am  here  to  do  justice  to  all,  and  the  weaker 
party  is  especially  entitled  to  my  protection. J) 

These  words  he  one  day  addressed  to  a  demi-brigade 
(I  believe  it  was  the  i7th),  aware  that  the  regiment  be- 
fore its  removal  to  Paris  had  suffered  deprivations  in  the 
department  where  it  had  been  in  garrison.  Such  a  sys- 
tem was  not  only  attended  with  immediately  beneficial 
results,  but  was  adroitly  adapted  to  answer  a  general 
and  not  less  useful  purpose.  The  Army  and  its  Chief 
thus  became  inseparably  united,  and  in  the  person  of 
that  Chief  the  Army  beheld  the  French  Nation.  Thus 
the  State,  through  him,  dispensed  both  blame  and  com- 
mendation. Besides,  Paris  by  this  means  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  army;  and  the  troops,  in  turn,  visiting 
the  capital,  ceased  to  regard  it  as  another  world,  and 
themselves  as  foreigners  in  it. 

My  husband,  who  invariably  attended  the  First  Consul 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  367 

on  these  parades,  communicated  to  me  everything  remark- 
able; and  in  reporting  the  achievements  of  a  day,  which 
to  other  men  would  have  comprised  the  labor  of  a 
month,  would  add :  w  All  this  proceeds  with  magic  mechan- 
ism; this  man  is  a  supernatural  being.  *  Junot,  it  is  true, 
might  view  his  favorite  General  with  prejudiced  eyes; 
but  not  on  these  occasions,  for  he  was  at  this  period  of 
his  life  truly  admirable. 

The  Diplomatic  Corps  showed  great  eagerness  to  wit- 
ness the  parades,  a  privilege  usually  enjoyed  by  foreign- 
ers from  the  windows  of  General  Duroc,  who  already 
occupied  that  part  of  the  ground  floor  at  the  end  of  the 
Empress's  apartments.  From  the  same  place  I  saw  the 
first  parade  after  my  marriage,  on  which  occasion  an  amus- 
ing adventure  happened  to  my  father-in-law.  Junot's 
attendance  being  required  on  horseback,  he  could  not 
escort  me  to  Duroc's,  but  intrusted  me  to  his  own  family, 
who  themselves  had  never  seen  a  parade. 

Arrived  at  the  railing  of  the  Pont  Royal,  we  alighted, 
and,  crossing  the  garden,  endeavored  to  gain  on  foot 
Duroc's  door,  which  is  situated  at  the  right  corner  of  the 
vestibule;  but  it  was  late,  and  we  were  compelled  to 
make  our  way  through  a  dense  crowd.  My  mother-in- 
law,  always  happy  and  always  merry,  only  jested  on  the 
pommelings  she  encountered;  but  her  husband,  quite 
unaccustomed  to  such  things,  was  in  terrible  ill-humor, 
and  railed  particularly  at  the  carelessness  of  young 
Parisian  ladies,  who  would  risk  handsome  cashmere  shawls 
in  such  a  crowd,  repeatedly  assuring  me  that  I  should 
lose  mine,  and  at  the  same  time  boasting  his  own  pru- 
dence in  securing  his  watch  by  guarding  it  constantly  with 
his  hand. 

His  cautions  and  vaunts  were  of  course  alike  over- 
heard, and  as  the  most  effectual  means  of  momentarily 
eluding  his  vigilance,  a  dexterous  twitch  was  given  to  my 
shawl ;  the  manoeuver  completely  succeeded  —  I  screamed, 
the  shawl  was  saved;  but,  alas!  that  moment  sufficed  for 
the  abstraction  of  the  carefully-guarded  watch;  and  its 
unfortunate  master,  on  discovering  his  loss,  clamorously 
lamented  over  an  old  and  valued  servant  of  thirty-five 
years'  standing,  till  reminded  by  Madame  Junot  that  it 
stopped  about  once  a  week,  and  had  within  the  last  year 
cost  him  fifty  francs  in  repairs. 


368  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Meanwhile  we  had  reached  Duroc's  door,  and  were 
placed  at  a  window.  The  parade  had  not  yet  commenced. 
The  officers  were  silently  promenading  in  the  ranks  of 
their  respective  regiments,  speaking  occasionally,  but 
only  in  a  whisper,  to  a  soldier  or  subaltern,  when  the 
carriage  of  a  weapon  or  the  position  of  a  hat  seemed  to 
demand  rectifying. 

Junot,  who  knew  the  passionate  enthusiasm  of  my 
patriotism,  had  warned  me  that  I  should  be  much  ex- 
cited; he  kissed  his  hand  to  me  in  passing,  and,  smiling 
to  see  my  handkerchief  at  my  eyes,  whispered  to  Duroc, 
when  both  again  looked  at  me,  and  I  observed  that  my 
emotion  affected  them. 

A  foreigner  sat  near  me  whose  admiration  of  the  scene 
before  him  was  so  profound  and  so  worthy  of  the  occasion 
that  it  struck  me,  and  he  wore  a  badge  so  singular  that 
I  could  not  resist  the  impulse  of  curiosity,  and  inquired 
the  meaning  of  it.  It  was  a  batiste  handkerchief  of 
extraordinary  whiteness,  tied  around  his  arm  like  the 
scarf  of  an  aid-de-camp.  <(  It  is  a  memorial  of  my 
Sovereign  and  of  a  glorious  day,  madame,"  answered  he, 
and  announced  himself  as  Baron  d'Ernsworth,  the  Swedish 
Minister.  * 

I  introduced  to  him  the  parents  of  General  Junot,  to 
whom  he  was  as  polite  as  he  could  have  been  to  the 
Montmorencies  and  the  La  Tremouilles  of  France ;  he  was 
near  fifty  years  of  age,  and  of  a  fine  figure,  perhaps 
somewhat  too  much  embonpoint  for  the  elegance  of  the 
military  costume  which  he  wore.  He  spoke,  with  an 
expression  which  went  to  my  heart,  of  the  reputation  of 
him  whose  name  I  bore.  (<  So  young, w  said  he,  (<  and 
already  so  famous;  but  with  such  a  captain  how  can  the 
lieutenants,  though  but  children,  be  otherwise  than 
worthy  sons  of  their  country !  w 

At  this  moment  the  First  Consul  stopped  under  our 
window,  and  said  to  a  drummer  of  about  sixteen  or  seven- 
teen, <(  So  it  was  you,  my  brave  boy,  who  beat  the  charge 

*A  revolution  took  place  on  the  i8th  of  August,  1772.  The 
partisans  of  Guiland  adopted  as  a  rallying  sign  a  white  handkerchief 
tied  round  the  arm;  and  the  King,  after  his  final  success,  granted,  as 
an  honorary  recompense  to  his  faithful  adherents,  permission  to  wear 
for  life  a  white  handkerchief  round  the  left  arm,  in  commemoration  of 
the  service  they  had  rendered  to  the  Crown. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  369 

before  Zurich."  The  countenance  of  the  young-  soldier 
was  suffused  with  crimson,  but  it  was  not  timidity  which 
called  the  flush  to  his  cheek.  He  raised  toward  the  First 
Consul  his  large  black  eyes,  sparkling  with  joy  at  being 
thus  publicly  distinguished,  and  replied  in  a  half-tremu- 
lous, half-confident  tone,  w  Oui,  mon  Ge"ne"ral. " 

(<  It  was  you,  too,  who  at  Weser  gave  proof  of  the  most 
gallant  presence  of  mind  by  saving  your  Commander. M  * 
The  youth  blushed  still  deeper,  this  time  from  modesty, 
and  answered,  in  a  lower  voice  than  before,  w  Oui,  mon 
Ge'ne'ral."  (<Well,  I  must  discharge  the  debt  of  the 
country;  it  will  be  paid  you  not  in  a  ring  of  honor,  but 
a  saber  of  honor;  I  appoint  you  a  subaltern  in  the  Con- 
sular Guard;  continue  to  behave  well,  and  I  will  take 
care  of  you.** 

As  the  First  Consul  ceased  speaking  he  raised  his  eyes 
to  the  low  window  at  which  we  were  seated,  and,  touch- 
ing his  hat,  saluted  us  all  with  a  gracious  smile.  My 
mother-in-law's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  ((  How  ought  we  to 
love  this  man !  *  said  she,  crying  and  laughing  together ; 
(<  see  how  the  poor  boy  is  overpowered. w  The  young 
drummer  was  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  a  comrade  and 
following  Bonaparte  with  his  eyes.  He  was  pale  as  death, 
but  how  eloquent  were  his  looks! 

I  know  not  what  may  have  become  of  him,  but  I  will 
answer  for  it  if  his  life  were  sacrificed  for  Napoleon  it 
cost  him  no  regret.  He  was  in  the  evening  the  subject 
of  my  conversation  with  the  First  Consul ;  he  listened 
with  interest,  and  addressing  Berthier,  who  was  just  ar- 
rived from  Spain,  to  take  the  portfolio  of  Minister  of 
War,  desired  him  to  take  down  the  young  man's  name, 
and  provide  him  with  an  outfit  for  his  new  rank.  He 
may  be  at  this  day  either  a  general  or  of  the  number 
of  the  dead;  one  or  other  he  most  assuredly  is. 

*  I  was  particularly  struck  by  this  fact,  because  all  the  occurrences 
of  this  first  parade  made  a  deep  impression  upon  my  mind ;  but  the 
military  annals  of  the  period  are  filled  with  similar  anecdotes,  too 
frequent  to  obtain  insertion  in  ^The  Moniteur?  or  other  journals. 
Speaking  of  the  above  the  same  evening  to  the  First  Consul,  as 
comparable  to  the  noblest  deeds  of  antiquity,  he  replied,  «  Bah !  ask 
your  husband ;  he  will  tell  you  there  is  neither  regiment  nor  demi- 
brigade  in  the  army  that  could  not  cite  ten  such.  He  himself  would 
be  the  hero  of  several." 
24 


370  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

This  parade  was  selected  for  my  first  attendance  be- 
cause some  spirited  horses  sent  to  the  First  Consul  by 
the  Spanish  King  were  then  to  be  presented.  The  cere- 
mony was  said  to  recall  the  equestrian  present  made  to 
Cromwell  by  a  German  prince.  I  know  not  what  the 
Mecklenburgh  horses  might  have  been,  but  the  Spanish 
were  sixteen  most  beautiful  creatures,  both  in  coat  and 
form;  fourteen  were  from  the  royal  stud,  and  two  of 
them  from  the  studs  of  the  Count  of  Altamira  and  the 
Duke  of  Medina  Coeli;  and  these  latter  were  the  tallest 
and  finest  of  the  troop;  the  first.  El  Jounalero,  a  really 
superb  animal,  and  the  other  of  equal  size  and  younger, 
showed  the  fire,  the  slight  fetlock,  and  arched  neck  of 
the  Arabian  breed. 

The  Diplomatic  Corps  was  at  that  time  composed  of 
the  Spanish  and  Roman  Ambassadors,  the  Ministers  of 
Denmark,  Sweden,  Baden,  and  Hesse  Cassel;  the  Dutch 
Ambassador,  M.  Schimmelpening,  celebrated  for  his  beau- 
tiful and  most  courteous  wife;  Ambassadors  from  the 
Cisalpine  and  Ligurian  Republics,  and  a  Swiss  Min- 
ister. 

Prussia,  still  desirous  of  an  accommodation  with  us, 
had,  in  October,  1800,  dispatched  M.  Lucchesini  on  a 
special  mission,  but  his  credentials  as  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary were  not  presented  till  1801  or  1802;  he  re- 
mained but  a  few  years  with  us,  and  after  the  campaign 
of  Jena  returned  no  more  to  France.  The  First  Consul 
disliked  him,  and  accused  him  of  intriguing. 

<(  Not  that  he  entraps  me,*  said  Bonaparte;  but  he 
willingly  would,  and  that  offends  me.  If  those  who  ne- 
gotiate with  me  did  but  know  how  much  more  surely 
their  tortuous  path  tends  to  ruining  themselves  than 
to  misleading  me,  they  would  choose  a  straighter 
road. w 

An  attention  which  M.  Lucchesini  hoped  would  work 
wonders  was,  on  the  contrary,  displeasing  to  the  First 
Consul,  and  threw  the  foreign  diplomatist  into  a  dilemma 
from  which  he  could  never  recover,  because  he  was  long 
unconscious  of  it ;  this  was  haranguing  the  First  Consul  in 
Italian  on  delivering  his  credentials.  Bonaparte  had  a 
strong  objection  to  being  addressed  in  Italian;  he  was, 
and  chose  to  be,  a  Frenchman. 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTfeS  371 

Soon  after  this  the  Congress  of  Luneville  gave  us 
peace  with  Austria,  and  that  of  Amiens  with  England. 
Russia  also  became  our  ally,  and  all  this  within  less  than 
a  year.  These  are  delightful  recollections,  and  again  I 
exclaim,  Oh,  what  a  time  was  that! 


CHAPTER   LI. 

Revival  of  the  Public  Prosperity  —  Destruction  of  the  Bands  of  Rob- 
bers—  M.  Dubois,  Prefect  of  Police  —  The  Exhibition  of  1800  — 
David  and  the  Picture  of  the  Sabines  —  Girodet,  and  the  Vengeance 
of  an  Artist  —  The  Satirical  Picture  of  Danae —  Gerard  —  Belisarius 
and  the  Portrait  of  Moreau  —  The  King  of  Spain's  Pistols  given  to 
General  Moreau  —  Remarkable  Words  of  Napoleon  —  Moreau 's 
Distrust  of  him  —  Napoleon's  Popularity. 

I  HAVE  already  observed  with  what  rapidity  General 
Bonaparte  had  succeeded  in  consolidating  a  corps, 
which  every  day  acquired  new  strength  and  stability. 
All  who  surrounded  him,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  lent 
their  aid  with  a  persevering  ability,  of  which  he  could 
thoroughly  appreciate  the  advantage.  Every  day  brought 
news  of  the  seizure  of  some  fresh  band  of  brigands, 
robbers  of  diligences,  forgers,  or  false  coiners;  the  latter 
especially  were  very  numerous. 

Dubois,  the  Prefect  of  Police,  was  extremely  zealous 
and  active  in  discovering  the  guilty,  and  such  as  under 
futile  political  pretexts  disturbed  the  public  tranquillity; 
he  was  inestimable  in  his  place,  and  Napoleon,  who  un- 
doubtedly knew  how  to  discern  and  to  employ  the  men 
who  would  answer  his  purpose,  took  care  not  to  remove 
him  from  his  office  till  after  the  fire  at  Prince  Schwartzen- 
burg's  ball. 

Not  only  were  all  the  interior  wheels  of  the  State  ma- 
chine beginning  to  play,  but  even  the  arts,  that  more 
silent  and  centrical  spring,  afforded  striking  proofs  of  the 
reviving  prosperity  of  France.  The  Exhibition  was  this 
year  particularly  good.  Guerin,  David,  Gerard,  Girodet, 
and  a  powerful  assemblage  of  talent,  excited  by  that 
emulation  which  the  fire  of  genius  always  inspires,  pro- 
duced works  which  will  hereafter  raise  our  school  to  an 


372  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

elevated  rank.  The  picture  of  the  Sabines  and  of  Marcus 
Sextus,  besides  several  portraits,  adorned  the  list  of 
paintings  for  the  year  1800. 

I  will  here  notice  some  circumstances  connected  with 
them  worth  preserving,  and  not  recorded  in  the  journals. 
The  first  is  somewhat  unworthy  of  the  talent  of  David. 
On  some  frivolous  pretense,  instead  of  sending  his  <(  Rape 
of  the  Sabines M  to  the  Salon,  he  privately  exhibited  it 
on  payment  of  a  franc,  to  the  peril  and  danger  of  Pari- 
sian mothers,  who,  as  was  observed  in  a  pretty  little 
vaudeville  which  appeared  at  the  time,  dared  not  take 
their  daughters  with  them. 

Girodet  was  then  in  the  full  vigor  of  his  genius,  and 
united  with  it  a  mind  of  a  superior  order;  but  he  was 
irascible  and  passionate,  of  which  this  year  afforded  an 
instance  capable  of  tarnishing  his  high  character. 

He  had  painted  the  portrait  of  a  female  celebrated  for 
her  beauty  and  dramatic  talents,  and  some  discussion 
arising  respecting  the  payment,  the  husband  imprudently 
indulged  in  some  very  disparaging  expressions,  which 
were  repeated  to  the  enraged  artist,  who,  disfiguring  the 
portrait  with  a  knife,  returned  it  with  an  intimation  that 
the  lady  might  dispose  as  she  pleased  both  of  it  and  its 
stipulated  price,  as  he  should  pay  himself  in  his  own  way. 
If  Girodet  had  confined  himself  to  the  threat,  which  was 
intended  no  doubt  to  alarm  the  parties,  all  would  have 
been  well,  but  he  went  further,  and  was  wrong  in  so 
doing. 

The  Salon  was  to  be  open  for  some  days  to  come ;  with 
a  rapidity  difficult  to  conceive,  he  painted  and  caused  to 
be  placed  at  the  Exhibition  a  picture  of  extraordinary 
merit,  representing  the  interior  of  a  garret.  In  one 
corner  was  a  miserable  bedstead,  covered  with  a  wretched 
mattress  and  a  blanket  full  of  holes ;  on  this  lay  a  young 
and  beautiful  maiden,  with  a  headdress  of  peacock's 
feathers,  having  no  other  clothing  than  a  tunic  of  gauze, 
through  which  were  seen  a  pair  of  legs  of  gigantic  thick- 
ness. She  held  this  dress  with  her  two  hands  to  catch 
a  shower  of  gold  that  fell  from  the  roof  of  the  garret. 
Near  the  bed  was  a  lamp,  whose  dazzling  brightness 
attracted  a  crowd  of  butterflies,  who  all  found  their  de- 
struction in  the  traitorous  light.  Beneath  the  bedstead 
was  seen  an  enormous  turkey,  stretching  forth  one  of  his 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  373 

feet,  on  the  toe  of  which  was  a  wedding  ring.  In  an 
obscure  corner  of  the  room  was  an  old  woman,  dressed 
like  a  beggar,  resembling  perfectly  a  decrepit  wretch 
who  was  often  seen  asking  alms  at  the  gate  of  the  Palais 
Royal,  and  who,  it  was  said,  was  the  mother  of  the 
original  in  the  cut  picture,  and  of  whom  there  was  a 
striking  likeness  in  the  recumbent  Danae.  Other 
allusions  in  the  picture  were  equally  remarkable, 
among  them  a  frog  swelling  itself  to  an  unnatural 
size,  etc. 

From  the  first  moment  of  its  exhibition  this  picture 
attracted  the  undivided  curiosity  of  the  visitors;  but 
whether  Girodet  ( who  afterward  testified  some  regret  for 
the  extremity  to  which  his  resentment  had  been  carried ) 
relented,  or  whatever  the  cause,  the  picture  was  in  a  few 
days  withdrawn. 

A  piece  of  a  different  kind,  and  the  principal  orna- 
ment of  the  Salon,  was  Gerard's  portrait  of  General 
Moreau.  The  hand  which  portrayed  Belisarius  and  Psyche" 
was  there  distinctly  traceable.  It  was  a  chef-d'oeuvre. 
Not  only  was  the  resemblance  perfect,  but  it  seemed  to 
possess  a  soul.  It  was  not  color  laid  on  canvas,  it  was 
animate;  it  was  General  Moreau  himself  who  looked 
upon  you. 

The  position,  too,  was  admirably  chosen.  It  would 
have  been  easy  and  natural  to  represent  him  in  full  ac- 
tion, with  all  the  splendid  appendages  of  military  cos- 
tume, for  assuredly  Moreau  has  more  than  once  headed 
his  troops  in  the  hour  of  danger;  but  he  was  habitually 
calm  and  reflective;  this,  therefore,  was  the  expression 
Gerard  judiciously  selected,  and  the  dress  and  attitude 
were  in  keeping.  Judging  by  other  works  of  Ge*rard, 
this  will  probably  always  retain  the  beauty  of  its  color- 
ing. 

Independently  of  his  professional  talent,  Gerard  was 
eminently  gifted,  and  all  his  compositions  are  full  of 
mind.  His  Belisarius  is  admirable;  there  are  but  two 
persons,  an  infant  and  an  old  man,  but  no  circumstance 
is  omitted  that  can  excite  interest  in  favor  of  the  old 
Roman  general.  In  the  background  of  that  gray  head 
stamped  by  Justinian  with  the  anathema  of  mendicity,  is 
seen  only  a  desert,  and  a  scorching  yet  stormy  horizon. 
The  features  of  his  youthful  guide  already  exhibit  the 


374  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

livid  paleness  of  death.  Belisarius  is  thus  alone  with  the 
agony  of  death  on  a  narrow  path,  at  the  brink  of  a  preci- 
pice: one  step  and  he  must  fall.  His  arm,  which  ad- 
vances a  useless  staff,  seems  to  start  from  the  canvas; 
lie  is  abandoned  by  all  Nature. 

The  portrait  of  Moreau  reminds  me  of  an  anecdote  con- 
cerning him,  which  occurred  at  that  time,  and  was  after- 
ward related  to  me  by  Junot,  who  was  an  eye  witness. 
When  the  rupture  of  the  armistice  in  Italy  and  Germany 
was  foreseen,  General  Moreau  came  to  Paris  to  receive 
the  orders  of  Government.  He  arrived  at  ten  in  the 
morning  of  the  iyth  of  October,  and  instantly,  without  even 
changing  his  boots,  went  to  the  Tuileries.  The  First 
Consul  was  at  the  time  in  the  Council  of  State,  but  as 
soon  as  he  heard  of  General  Moreau's  arrival  he  hastened 
to  hold  a  conference  with  him. 

While  he  was  in  the  sa/on,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  happened  to  enter,  bringing  a  pair  of 
pistols  of  extremely  fine  and  curious  workmanship,  which 
Boutet  had  just  completed  by  order  of  the  Directory  as 
a  present  for  the  King  of  Spain.  They  were  valuable, 
both  for  the  skill  the  artist  had  applied  to  their  construc- 
tion and  for  a  great  quantity  of  diamonds  and  precious 
stones  with  which  they  were  embellished.  <(  These  arms 
come  very  apropos,*  said  the  First  Consul,  presenting 
them  to  General  Moreau  with  that  smile  which  could 
win  hearts  of  stone  — (<  General  Moreau  will  do  me 
the  favor  to  accept  them  as  a  mark  of  the  esteem  and 
gratitude  of  the  French  nation. }) 

(<  Citizen  Minister, w  added  Bonaparte,  turning  toward 
his  brother,  <(  have  some  of  the  battles  of  General  Mo- 
reau engraved  on  the  pistols,  but  not  all ;  we  must  leave 
some  room  for  diamonds.  Not  because  the  General  at- 
taches much  value  to  them;  I  know  that  his  Republican 
virtue  disdains  such  baubles,  but  we  must  not  altogether 
derange  the  design  of  Boutet. w 

Methinks,  after  such  expressions,  Moreau  might  have 
placed  confidence  in  the  friendship  Bonaparte  offered 
him.  Why  should  the  First  Consul  have  flattered  him? 
Why,  especially,  should  he  at  that  time  have  offered 
him  a  hand  which  was  not  sincerely  friendly?  Was  it  to 
flatter  the  popularity  of  Moreau?  At  this  period  the 
popularity  of  Bonaparte  was  far  superior  to  his.  Hohen- 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  375 

linden  was  not  then  gained,  and  even  after  that  brilliant 
victory  Napoleon  had  no  cause  to  dread  a  rival  in  the 
hearts  of  Frenchmen;  at  this  period  he  was  really  be- 
loved. 


CHAPTER    LIT 

The  Eastern  Queen  at  the  Comedie  Franchise  —  Pauline  and  Her  Por- 
trait—  The  Young  Sempstress  of  M.  de  Sales  —  Marriage  of  Con- 
venience, and  the  Army  of  Egypt  —  Cavalcade  of  Asses  —  Dinner 
at  General  Dupuy's,  and  the  Wife  without  Her  Husband  —  The  Cup 
of  Coffee  and  the  Orange  —  Bonaparte,  Berthier,  and  the  Husband 
Ambassador  —  An  English  Tour  —  Gallantry  of  Kleber  —  Good- 
ness of  Desgenettes  —  Return  to  France,  and  the  Divorce  —  Dread 
of  Scandal,  and  the  Wife  with  Two  Husbands  —  Saint  Helena,  and 
Admirable  Conduct 

I  WAS  one  day  at  the  Comtdie  Franqaise  with  my  hus- 
band, attentively  listening  to  Talma  in  the  part  of 
Orestes,  when  Junot,  touching  my  arm,  told  me  to 
look  attentively  at  a  young  woman  he  was  about  to 
salute,  and  who  was  seated  between  Berthier's  box  and 
our  own. 

My  eye  followed  his  salute,  and  I  saw  a  woman  of 
about  twenty-two  or  twenty-three  years  of  age,  florid  as 
a  young  girl  of  fifteen,  and  of  a  gay  and  agreeable  coun- 
tenance. Her  flaxen  hair  formed  the  only  ornament  of 
her  head.  She  was  wrapped  in  a  magnificent  white  cash- 
mere shawl,  with  an  embroidered  border,  and  appeared 
to  be  en  ntgligd.  She  returned  Junot's  salute  with  an 
air  of  acquaintance  which  surprised  me,  and  I  inquired 
her  name. 

(<It  is  Pauline,"  said  he,  <(our  Eastern  Queen. M  He 
had  already  mentioned  Madame  Foures  to  me,  to  caution 
me  against  the  indiscretion  of  naming  her  before  Madame 
Bonaparte.  "This,  then,  is  Madame  Foures, "  said  I,  and 
instantly  put  to  him  all  the  inquiries  one  woman  will 
make  concerning  another  woman  whom  she  sees  for  the 
first  time.  He  told  me  she  had  natural  wit,  and  a  desire 
of  distinction,  but  a  total  ignorance  of  the  manners  of 
the  world,  that  is  to  say,  of  good  and  elegant  man- 
ners. 


376  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

<(I  like  her  much,*  said  Junot;  (<  she  is  kind-hearted, 
simple,  and  unaffected,  always  disposed  to  join  in  mirth, 
and  still  more  ready  to  oblige.  I  have  a  friendship  for 
her,  and  hope  to  prove  it;  but  there  are,  about  the  per- 
son of  the  First  Consul,  men  who  were  at  her  feet  in 
Egypt,  and  have  since  refused  to  know  her,  and  repulsed 
her  in  the  little  intercourse  she  has  been  obliged  to  hold 
with  them.  Duroc,  who  has  honor  and  a  feeling  heart, 
told  me  that  the  poor  young  creature  knew  not  what 
would  have  become  of  her  had  she  not  opportunely  met 
with  him  to  convey  a  letter  for  her  to  General  Bonaparte. 
She  is  no  longer  in  want  of  anything,  and  this  is  no 
more  than  a  debt  which  the  First  Consul  owes  to  a 
woman  whom  he  has  sincerely  loved.* 

I  afterward  learned  a  variety  of  particulars  relating 
to  Madame  Foures,  and  as  she  was  long  attached  to  the 
fate  of  Napoleon,  and  gave  him  in  adversity  proofs  of 
gratitude  and  interest,  I  think  it  best  to  insert  here  all 
that  I  know  of  her. 

Pauline  was  born  at  Carcassone.  Her  father  was  a 
gentleman,  but  her  mother  either  a  chambermaid  or 
cook.  The  education  of  the  young  daughter  partook  of 
the  mixed  rank  to  which  she  owed  her  birth;  she  received 
some  instruction,  and  finally  went  out  to  work.  She 
was  one  of  the  prettiest  girls  in  the  town,  and  perfectly 
virtuous.  My  friends,  M.  and  Madame  de  Sales,  showed 
her  a  kindness,  which  her  conduct  justified,  and  treated 
her  more  like  a  child  of  their  own  than  a  workwoman, 
for  her  conduct  was  most  exemplary. 

She  recited  M.  de  Sales's  verses,  and  sang  with  taste, 
and  it  was  here  principally  that  her  beauty  acquired  her 
the  surname  of  BELLILOTTE. 

The  son  of  a  retired  merchant  named  Foures  was 
charmed  by  that  pretty  Hebe  face  and  the  fame  which 
attended  it;  he  paid  his  addresses  to  her,  but  as  he  was 
far  from  agreeable  she  hesitated  for  some  time;  an  ac- 
cidental introduction  to  the  table  of  M.  de  Sales,  to 
entertain  his  guests  with  her  singing,  and  the  impression 
she  was  sensible  of  having  made  there,  induced  her  to 
consult  M.  de  Sales  on  the  subject  of  the  marriage.  (<  M. 
Foures  offers  me  the  advantage  of  a  fortune,*  said  she, 
w  moderate,  it  is  true,  but  independent.  I  think  I  will 
accept  him,*  and  shortly  after  she  married  him. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRAXTES  377 

The  intended  Egyptian  expedition  was  soon  announced 
at  Carcassone,  and  Foures,  who  had  seen  service,  willing 
to  answer  the  national  appeal  to  all  the  retired  officers 
capable  of  bearing  arms,  set  out  for  Toulon,  the  general 
RENDEZVOUS.  He  tenderly  loved  his  young  bride,  and 
made  her  the  companion  of  his  journey,  while  her  adven 
turous  spirit  wished  for  nothing  better  than  to  share  all 
danger  and  fatigue  with  her  husband.  She  put  on  male 
attire  therefore,  and  they  arrived  in  Egypt ;  it  is  not  true 
that  Napoleon  had  seen  her  in  France,  or  that  he  had 
dressed  her  as  a  naval  aspirant  on  board  the  *  Orient, M 
as  I  have  read  in  a  foolish  book,  whose  author  has  col- 
lected together  all  the  most  absurd  falsehoods  respecting 
Napoleon. 

When  at  Cairo,  the  General-in-Chief  was  one  day  rid- 
ing, followed  by  a  numerous  staff,  to  attend  a  sort  of 
fair  about  a  league  from  the  town,  when  the  party  was 
detained  on  the  road  by  a  troop  of  asses,  commonly 
used  for  the  saddle  in  that  country.  They  were  mounted 
by  officers  and  some  of  their  wives.  General  Bonaparte, 
who  is  well  known  to  have  had  a  quick  eye,  was  struck 
by  a  passing  glimpse  of  a  female  face,  yet  he  pursued 
his  route  without  a  hint  of  the  circumstance. 

The  next  day  Madame  Foures  received  an  invitation  to 
dine  with  General  Dupuy,  Commandant  of  the  city,  who 
had  with  him  a  Madame  Dupuy,  and  the  invitation  was 
sent  in  her  name  as  well  as  his.  *  It  is  singular,"  said 
Foures,  (<  that  I  am  not  invited  with  my  wife,  for  I  am 
an  officer.  He  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  22d  Chasseurs  a" 
Cheval.  He,  however,  allowed  his  wife  to  go,  strongly 
recommending  her  to  make  it  understood  that  she  had 
a  husband,  a  fact  already  but  too  well  known.  Madame 
Foures  was  most  politely  received.  The  dinner  party 
was  select,  and  everything  passed  off  quietly,  and  with- 
out the  smallest  indication  of  what  was  to  follow;  but  at 
the  moment  coffee  was  about  to  be  served,  a  great  com- 
motion was  heard  in  the  house,  the  folding  doors  hastily 
opened,  and  the  General-in-Chief  appeared. 

Dupuy  made  many  apologies  for  being  found  at  table, 
and  pressed  a  cup  of  coffee  upon  Napoleon,  which  he  ac- 
cepted. He  was  taciturn,  and  fixed  his  attention  on  the 
young  Frenchwoman,  who,  blushing  crimson,  dared  not 
raise  her  eyes,  and  grew  momentarily  more  and  more 


378  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

dismayed  at  finding  herself  so  obviously  an  object  of  at- 
tention to  a  man  whose  great  name  was  already  the 
theme  of  the  world.  The  General-in-Chief  refreshed  him- 
self with  an  orange  and  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  then  took 
his  leave,  without  having  addressed  a  single  word  to  Ma- 
dame Foures,  but  also  without  having  once  taken  his 
eyes  off  her. 

A  few  days  after  Foures  was  sent  for  by  Berthier. 
«My  dear  Foures, »  said  the  Chief  of  the  Staff,  putting 
into  his  hands  a  voluminous  packet,  (<  more  fortunate 
than  any  of  us,  you  are  about  to  revisit  France.  The 
General-in-Chief  has  had  reports  of  you  which  inspire 
him  with  such  perfect  confidence  that  he  sends  you 
to  Europe  as  the  bearer  of  dispatches  to  the  Directory. 
You  are  to  set  out  within  an  hour;  here  is  an  order  to  the 
Commander  of  the  port  of  Alexandria.  Adieu,  my  dear 
fellow ;  I  wish  I  were  in  your  place. " 

<(  But  I  must  go  and  apprize  my  wife,  that  she  may 
make  her  preparations, "  said  Foures,  recovering  at  length 
from  the  stupefaction  he  had  been  thrown  into  by  a  fa- 
vor which  he  received  with  instinctive  doubts.  He  was, 
however,  dissuaded  by  unanswerable  arguments,  from 
carrying  his  wife  with  him;  and  Berthier  affected  sym- 
pathy with  his  distress  at  the  necessary  separation. 

Foures,  amid  his  grief,  was  tolerably  self-satisfied; 
for,  inconceivable  as  were  the  singular  favors  which  had 
sought  him  out  in  his  obscurity,  we  all  have  a  reserve 
of  vanity  to  assist  us  in  comprehending  what  is  incom- 
prehensible; and  before  he  reached  his  lodging  Foures 
had  discovered  within  himself  many  reasons  to  explain 
the  General's  choice.  His  wife,  who  understood  them 
rather  better,  took  leave  of  him,  ((with  a  tear  in  her 
eye,w  and  the  good  lieutenant,  embarking,  sailed  for 
France.  At  that  period  it  was  more  easy  to  embark  for 
France  than  it  was  to  land  there.  The  English  were  on 
the  alert,  and  no  sooner  was  a  sail  descried  on  the  surface 
of  the  ocean  than  twenty  grappling  irons  fell  pounce 
upon  it,  and  it  was  carried  —  God  knows  where. 

Foures's  small  vessel  shared  the  common  fate  of  those 
which  left  the  ports  of  Egypt;  it  was  taken,  and  himself 
searched  even  to  his  shirt  for  the  important  papers  he 
was  supposed  to  have  concealed ;  but  on  examining  those 
which  his  utmost  address  could  not  withhold,  the  English 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  379 

captain  found  them  to  contain  nothing  but  well  known 
particulars  which  he  remembered  to  have  seen  osten- 
tatiously published  in  the  *Moniteur*  from  a  previous  dis- 
patch that  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  escape. 

This  gentleman,  vastly  polite  and  accommodating, 
inquired  of  the  lieutenant  ambassador  where  he  would 
choose  to  be  landed.  He  was  himself  bound  for  Mahon; 
from  thence  he  sailed  to  the  Molucca  Islands;  thence  on 
a  grand  tour  in  the  Pacific,  or  toward  the  Pole,  depend- 
ing on  the  instructions  he  might  find  at  Macao;  finally, 
he  would  very  probably  revisit  the  waters  of  the  Nile; 
and  if  M.  le  Lieutenant  preferred  a  residence  on  the 
coast  during  this  little  tour,  he,  a  captain  in  the  service 
of  his  Brittanic  Majesty,  was  quite  at  his  command. 
Poor  Foures  timidly  asked  if  he  could  not  return  whence 
he  came. 

"For,"  observed  he,  very  judiciously,  "now  that  I  am 
but  an  empty  mail,  what  end  would  it  answer  to  absent 
myself  from  my  wife  ?  Let  me  return  to  Cairo. "  The 
English  captain,  who,  among  other  circumstantial 
intelligence  from  the  interior  of  Egypt,  was  pretty  well 
acquainted  with  the  affairs  of  Madame  Foures  and  the 
General-in-Chief,  landed  the  good  lieutenant  according  to 
his  desire,  with  great  politeness  and  apparent  cordiality, 
and  wished  him  good  luck.  Foures  hastened  to  embrace 
his  Bellilotte,  but  Bellilotte  was  no  longer  beautiful  for 
him;  he  found  his  lodging  deserted,  and,  his  affection 
being  sincere,  the  poor  fellow's  consternation  and  mis- 
ery were  proportionate.  His  wife  was  easily  found; 
she  inhabited  an  hotel  close  to  that  of  the  General; 
and  being  persecuted  with  his  entreaties  to  return,  she 
obtained  a  divorce  pronounced  by  Commissary-General 
Sartelon. 

Napoleon  was  much  attached  to  Madame  Foures,  who 
possessed  every  qualification  calculated  to  attach  him  — 
qualifications  still  more  brilliantly  attractive  in  a  distant 
and  barbarous  country,  where  the  rest  of  her  sex  within 
reach  were  of  a  station  and  character  from  whom  Bona- 
parte would  not  so  much  as  have  thought  of  seeking  a 
companion.  In  Pauline  he  found  an  active  and  ardent 
imagination,  an  affectionate  disposition,  abundance  of 
native  humor,  and  a  mind  cultivated  without  pedantry. 

Perfectly    unaffected    and    disinterested,    she    was    all 


380  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

tenderness  and  devotion.  Combining  with  so  many  at- 
tractions a  captivating  exterior,  Bellilotte  could  not  fail 
of  being  beloved  by  a  man  to  whom  pretension,  affecta- 
tion and  self-interest  were  odious  in  women. 

She  was  as  full  of  fun  and  gayety  as  a  girl  of  twelve, 
and  Napoleon  often  joked  her  upon  this  gayety,  and  upon 
the  laughing  he  had  heard  in  the  donkey  adventure  on 
the  road  to  Boulac.  Her  situation  threw  her  into  fre- 
quent contact  with  the  inferior  agents  of  the  commis- 
sariat and  military  treasiiry,  and  Bonaparte  would  often 
laughingly  joke  her  upon  her  intimacies  with  them;  but 
had  he  believed  such  things  he  would  never  have  men- 
tioned them,  even  in  jest,  and  she  gave  him  in  reality 
no  cause  of  complaint. 

When  Napoleon  determined  on  quitting  Egypt  she 
alone  was  apprised  of  so  important  a  resolution.  With 
much  grief  she  was  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of 
following  him  through  the  chances  of  a  dangerous  jour- 
ney. ((  I  may  be  taken,  *  said  he,  when  in  tears  she  pe- 
titioned to  attend  him,  promising  to  brave  every  difficulty, 
a  promise  she  would  religiously  have  observed  — (<  I  may 
may  be  taken  by  the  English ;  my  honor  must  be  dear  to 
you:  and  what  would  they  say  to  find  a  woman  at  my 
elbow  ? w  After  his  departure,  Egypt  was  to  her  but  a 
vast  desert.  Napoleon  left  orders  with  Kleber  to  ship 
off,  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  certain  persons  whom 
he  named.  I  have  already  reported  how  these  orders 
were  executed  with  respect  to  my  husband  and  brother- 
in-law.  Poor  Bellilotte  met  with  no  better  fate,  and  be- 
ing a  woman,  felt  it  more  acutely. 

Kleber,  who  in  spite  of  a  stature  of  six  feet,  and  great 
military  talent,  was  sometimes  mean  and  pitiful  in  his 
notions,  delighted  in  the  power  of  tyrannizing  over  a 
woman  who  had  been  the  mistress  of  Bonaparte,  and  in 
preventing  his  friends  from  joining  him ;  but  Desgenettes, 
ever  ready  to  assist  the  unhappy,  conceiving  the  distress 
of  Madame  Foures,  deprived  of  her  defender,  and  exposed 
to  the  vengeance  of  a  man  who  loved  her,  and  whose 
jealousy  must  produce  vexatious,  perhaps  dangerous  con- 
sequences, came  to  her  assistance,  and  interposed  so 
effectually  with  Kleber  for  the  delivery  of  the  passport 
that  Madame  Foures  immediately  obtained  it  and  sailed  for 
France,  where  she  found  her  Egyptian  friend  in  cir- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfiS  381 

cumstances  which  gave  him  new  claims  on  her  affec- 
tion. 

Napoleon  was,  however,  but  newly  reconciled  to  Joseph- 
ine, and  was  too  deeply  immersed  in  serious  and  im- 
portant labors  to  admit  of  any  distraction.  Though 
indifferent  to  Josephine,  his  attachment  for  her  had  once 
been  sufficient  to  enable  her  to  replace,  in  his  imagination 
at  least,  a  connection  that  might  have  afforded  him  happi- 
ness. Bellilotte  was  therefore  discarded:  from  Duroc, 
who  was  especially  charged  with  the  disposal  of  her  fate, 
I  know  the  internal  struggles  which  this  decision  cost 
Napoleon;  but  her  name  was  Josephine's  most  effective 
weapon  in  all  her  domestic  quarrels,  and  she  would  have 
allowed  him  neither  peace  nor  respite  had  she  once 
learned  that  Madame  Foures  had  a  house  in  Paris. 
Napoleon,  anxious  above  all  things  to  avoid  publicity, 
recommended  a  house  out  of  town.  And  Pauline,  ever 
resigned  to  the  wishes  of  him  she  loved,  hired  or  pur- 
chased a  cottage  at  Belleville  near  the  Pre-Saint  Gervais, 
where  she  lived  at  the  time  Junot  pointed  her  out  to  me 
at  the  Comtdie. 

Foures  also  returned  from  Egypt,  and  the  divorce  pro- 
nounced abroad  being  invalid  at  home  unless  confirmed 
within  a  limited  time,  which  had  now  elapsed,  he  reclaimed 
his  wife,  who  refused  his  demand;  and  long  and  angry 
debates  arose,  which,  reaching  the  ears  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, he  with  some  harshness  ordered  the  unfortunate  wife 
to  marry  again.  An  opportunity  offered  in  the  person 
of  M.  Ramchouppe,  who  was  enamored  of  her;  and  Bona- 
parte promised  a  consulate  on  the  conclusion  of  the  match. 
She  consulted  her  old  patron,  M.  de  Sales,  who  was  now 
practicing  with  credit  as  an  advocate  at  Paris,  and  who 
still  entertained  a  warm  friendship  for  Bellilotte  as  well 
as  for  Foures.  She  finally  determined,  contrary  to  his 
judgment,  to  marry  M.  Ramchouppe,  and  set  out  with  her 
new  husband  for  his  consulate. 

For  many  years  nothing  was  heard  from  her;  but  on 
learning  the  captivity  of  Napoleon,  the  noble  and  exalted 
soul  of  Pauline  rose  superior  to  fear  and  prejudice.  She 
realized  part  of  her  remaining  property,  and  sailed  from 
port  to  port,  anxiously  watching  an  opportunity  to  go  to 
Saint  Helena  and  to  attempt  the  deliverance  of  him  who 


382  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 

had  ever  been  dear  to   her   as  her  best   friend,  and  who 
personified  the  glory  of  her  country. 

Her  plan  was  some  time  organizing,  and  no  sooner 
was  it  completed  than  Napoleon's  death  crushed  all  her 
hopes.  Pauline  was  in  Brazil  when  the  news  reached 
her;  where  she  may  be  now  I  know  not,  but  in  what- 
ever quarter  of  the  globe,  should  this  book  meet  her 
eye,  I  could  wish  that  it  may  convey  to  her  the  expres- 
sion of  my  admiration  and  gratitude  for  a  feeble  woman, 
whose  courage  and  feeling  prompted  an  undertaking 
which  men  had  not  heart  enough  even  to  attempt. 


CHAPTER    LIII. 

Awakening  and  Nocturnal  Sally  of  Junot  —  The  Adjutant  Laborde  — 
Chevalier's  Machine  —  Accomplices  and  Informers  —  Attempts 
against  the  First  Consul's  Life  —  Difficult  Arrest  —  The  Madmen  — 
Conspiracies  —  Secrets  imparted  to  Caff arelli  —  Lavoisier  —  Poverty 
a  Bad  Counselor  —  The  Rule  and  Its  Exceptions  —  Description 
of  the  Machine  —  Maxim  of  the  First  Consul  —  The  Military  Family. 

SOME  days  after  my  marriage  I  found  Junot  depressed 
and  abstracted,  visiting  the  Prefect  of  Police  several 
times  a  day,  often  awakened  in  the  night  by  an  old 
adjutant  called  Laborde,  who  came  to  make  reports, 
which  seemed  to  be  of  great  importance ;  he  once  got  up 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  dressed  himself,  and 
sallied  out  on  foot  with  this  man,  although  the  cold  was 
excessive,  and  he  had  been  suffering  all  day  with  a 
violent  headache,  which  had  entirely  deprived  him  of 
appetite.  But  the  interests  at  stake  were  very  dear,  and 
all  else  was  forgotten. 

At  length,  on  the  ;th  of  November,  he  appeared  more 
calm,  and  told  me  that  the  First  Consul  had  just  escaped 
a  danger  which  must  have  been  followed  by  the  most 
disastrous  consequences;  for  not  only  must  the  plan,  if 
executed,  have  succeeded,  but  all  the  neighboring  inhab- 
itants would  have  been  its  victims.  This  was  the  infer- 
nal machine  of  Chevalier,  a  prelude  to  the  conspiracy  of 
the  23d  of  December.  Chevalier,  whose  name  is  almost  the 
only  one  connected  with  this  affair,  was  far  from  being  its 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTfeS  383 

sole  contriver.  Men  named  Bousquet,  Gombaud-Lachaise, 
Desforge,  GueYauld,  and  a  Madame  Bucquet,  were  ar- 
rested at  the  same  time,  and,  with  Chevalier,  confined  in 
the  temple.  This  machine,  which  Chevalier  was  con- 
structing, was  seized  in  a  chamber  which  he  shared  with 
a  man  named  Veycer,  in  a  house  called  the  house  of  the 
Blancs-Manteaux.  He  had  left  his  former  lodging  because 
the  police  were  in  search  of  him. 

Veycer,  his  fellow  laborer,  was  at  first  his  comrade, 
and  afterward,  whether  through  remorse  or  by  means  of 
bribery,  was  induced  to  assist  in  his  arrest.  It  was  ap- 
prehended that  Chevalier,  finding  himself  lost,  might  in  a 
moment  of  despair  set  fire  to  the  combustibles  around 
him  and  blow  up  with  himself  the  house  and  all  that  it 
contained.  Veycer's  business  was  to  prevent  this,  but 
Chevalier,  as  was  natural  to  the  part  he  was  playing, 
was  extremely  suspicious.  On  retiring  to  rest  he  fas- 
tened his  door  with  an  oaken  bar,  and  had  always  at 
hand  a  pair  of  excellent  and  well-loaded  pistols;  all  this 
his  bedfellow  was  aware  of,  and  was  not  unmindful  of 
his  own  safety. 

On  the  eve  of  Chevalier's  arrest  the  progress  of  his 
machine  was  at  a  standstill  for  want  of  money;  and  Bous- 
quet, •  who  appears  to  have  been  hitherto  the  banker  of  the 
diabolical  enterprise,  was  equally  without  funds.  Veycer  was 
dispatched  in  quest  of  money,  which,  of  course,  was  not 
difficult  to  procure,  as  only  six  or  eight  francs  were 
wanted.  He  brought  them  late  at  night,  so  that  nothing 
could  be  undertaken  till  the  morning. 

Chevalier's  confidence  in  his  comrade  (whose  real  name 
was  not  Veycer,  and  whom  I  shall  simply  call  his  com- 
rade) was  strengthened  by  this  new  service,  and  he  slept 
amid  fusees  and  cartridges  as  tranquilly  as  if  sur- 
rounded by  roses. 

The  comrade  had  little  difficulty  in  persuading  him  not 
to  burn  a  light,  so  that  the  room  was  in  perfect  dark- 
ness, and  to  this  circumstance  he  owed  his  safety;  for, 
on  hearing  the  first  shake  of  the  door  by  the  police 
agents,  he  sprang  forward  to  remove  the  bar  that  op- 
posed them,  and  Chevalier,  perceiving  that  he  was 
betrayed,  fired  a  pistol,  which  lodged  its  contents  in  the 
wall,  but  would  not  have  missed  his  comrade  had  there 
been  a  light. 


384  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

This  arrest  took  place  at  two  in  the  morning-  of  the 
7th  of  November,  a  date  impressed  on  my  memory  by 
the  circumstance  that,  had  my  mother's  intended  ball  that 
evening  taken  place,  with  so  many  of  those  wretches  about 
the  town  who  went  by  the  name  of  the  MADMEN,  and  had 
been  agitating  for  three  months  past,  the  probable  con- 
sequences of  their  learning  that  the  First  Consul  was 
about  to  spend  a  part  of  the  night,  unguarded,  at  a 
private  house,  where,  on  entering  or  returning,  his  per- 
son was  so  much  more  accessible  than  amid  the  crowds 
that  surround  a  public  spectacle,  could  not  but  make  both 
my  mother  and  myself  shudder. 

The  sect  called  the  Enrages  was  composed  of  the  very 
dregs  of  the  worst  days  of  the  Revolution.  The  cleverest 
of  them,  and  their  ringleader,  was  one  Moses  Bayle,  for- 
merly a  Conventionalist,  who  headed  the  attempt  on  the 
vaults  of  the  Tuileries,  opposite  the  Vigier  baths,  when 
the  first  grating  yielded ;  but  the  second,  having  a  stronger 
lock,  set  force  at  defiance.  The  same  party,  under  the 
same  leader,  attempted  to  assassinate  the  First  Consul 
before  the  affair  of  Ceracchi  and  Are"na.  This  conspiracy, 
which  had  been  framed  almost  unknown  to  the  police, 
so  completely  were  its  authors  protected  by  their  insig- 
nificance, was  discovered  by  an  honest  man  whom  they 
would  willingly  have  made  an  accomplice;  but,  revolting 
at  the  enormity  of  the  project,  he  sought  out  General 
Caffarelli,  aid-de-camp  to  the  First  Consul,  and  revealed 
to  him  the  whole  affair.  This  man's  name  owes  its 
preservation  chiefly  to  its  similarity  to  one  of  great  celeb- 
rity, Lavoisier. 

Paris  was  at  this  time  infested  with  swarms  of  par- 
doned Chouans,  and  other  vagabonds  of  all  descriptions, 
who  conspired  against  the  First  Consul's  life,  not  for  the 
sake  of  liberty,  but  because  so  terrible  a  catastrophe 
would  throw  all  Paris  into  confusion,  and  enable  them 
to  repeat  the  horrors  of  the  loth  of  August  and  2d  of 
September.  But  it  was  the  opinion  both  of  Junot  and 
Fouche,  who  agreed  on  this  point  alone,  that  other  heads 
controlled,  and  other  counsels  animated  the  machinations 
of  which  these  illiterate  and  half-armed  banditti  were 
made  to  appear  the  sole  contrivers.  Since  the  First  Consul 
had  been  in  power  more  than  ten  obscure  conspira- 
cies had  been  discovered,  and  he,  with  the  same  great- 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  385 

ness  of  mind  which  never  afterward  deserted  him, 
enjoined  the  authorities  not  to  divulge  them. 

<(  They  would  lead  the  nation  to  suppose  that  the  State 
is  not  tranquil,  nor  must  we  allow  foreigners  this  mo- 
mentary triumph;  they  would  easily  take  advantage  of 
it,  and  it  shall  not  be." 

I  heard  the  whole  history  of  Chevalier's  affair  from 
the  old  adjutant  Laborde,  who  came  the  next  morning 
to  relate  it  to  Junot;  and  also  from  Doucet,  Chief  of  the 
Staff  of  Paris.  The  little  machine  was  brought  for 
Junot's  inspection.  It  was  a  small  cask  filled  with  squibs, 
and  balls  containing  seven  or  eight  pounds  of  powder. 
It  was  bound  at  each  extremity  with  two  hoops  of  iron, 
and  near  the  middle  was  introduced  a  gun  barrel,  having 
the  trigger  strongly  attached  to  the  cask  with  pieces  of 
iron.  This  infernal  machine  was  to  have  been  placed 
in  the  road  of  the  First  Consul.  Fireworks  were  to  have 
been  thrown  in  all  directions  to  increase  the  disorder; 
while  chevaux-de-frise,  manufactured  by  a  locksmith,  who 
was  taken  into  custody,  being  placed  in  the  adjacent 
streets,  were  to  prevent  the  arrival  of  troops,  and  thus 
give  time  to  men,  capable  of  so  diabolical  a  conception, 
to  commit  their  meditated  crimes. 

Junot  especially  directed  me  not  to  mention  this  affair 
to  any  of  my  mother's  associates ;  and  so  well  did  I  obey 
his  instructions  that  my  mother  knew  nothing  of  the 
matter  till  the  2 3d  of  December.  I  soon,  indeed,  accus- 
tomed myself  to  hear  almost  mechanically  matters  of 
the  utmost  importance  discussed;  a  habit  that  was  com- 
mon to  me  as  well  as  to  all  the  young  wives  of  my 
time,  whose  husbands  were  continually  about  the  Chief 
of  the  State,  or  engaged  in  highly  confidential  transac- 
tions. 

The  first  time  that  I  dined  at  the  Tuileries,  I  was 
placed  as  a  bride  next  to  the  First  Consul;  the  Duchess 
de  Montebello,  then  Madame  Lannes,  was  seated  on  the 
other  side;  it  was  about  a  week  after  this  discovery;  he 
asked  me  if  I  had  mentioned  it  to  my  mother.  I 
answered,  (<  No,  for  I  was  unwilling  to  give  her  uneasi- 
ness; and  besides, w  added  I,  (<  Junot  tells  me  such  things 
must  be  talked  of  as  little  as  possible."  <(  Junot  is  right,* 
added  he ;  (<  I  myself  have  recommended  it  to  him.  It  is 
now  no  secret,  as  beyond  a  doubt  the  arrest  of  Chevalier 
25 


386  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

is  pretty  generally  known;  but  I  do  not  wish  expla- 
nations, sought  for  more  from  curiosity  than  interest,  by 
persons  so  nearly  connected  with  me  as  Junot."  And  he 
added,  <(As  for  you,  Madame  Junot,  now  that  you  make 
a  part  of  the  family  of  my  staff,  you  must  SEE,  HEAR, 
AND  FORGET  ( vous  devez  tout  voir,  tout  entendre,  et  tout 
oublicr}.  Have  this  device  engraved  on  a  seal.  But  I 
remember  that  you  can  keep  a  secret. M  ( He  alluded  to 
the  affair  of  Salicetti.) 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

Garat,  and  the  Ridiculous  Cravats  —  Haydn's  Oratorio — Brilliant  As- 
semblage at  the  Opera  —  Junot's  Dinner  with  Berthier,  the  23d  of 
December  —  General  Security  and  Extraordinary  Noise — The  First 
Consul  at  the  Opera,  and  Duroc  at  the  Door  of  My  Box  —  The  Infer- 
nal Machine — M.  Diestrich,  Aid -de-Camp  to  Vandamme — Return 
from  the  Opera  —  My  Presence  at  the  Tuileries  the  Evening  of  the  23d 
of  December  —  Remarkable  Scenes  —  Danger  of  Madame  Bonaparte 
—  Involuntary  Tears  —  Correct  Details  Relative  to  the  Infernal  Ma- 
chine—  Exaggeration  of  the  Number  of  Victims  —  Junot's  Coachman, 
and  the  Danger  Avoided  —  Agreement  of  Fouche  and  Junot —  Junot's 
Nightmare  —  My  Life  in  Danger. 

MY  MOTHER'S  health  was  strikingly  improved  since  my 
marriage.     Contrary  to  my    brother's   inclinations, 
as  well  as  mine,  she  had  called  in  a  new  physician, 
named  Vigaroux,  the  son  of  a  skillful  surgeon  of    Mont- 
pellier,  and  he  seemed  to  work  wonders.     He  engaged  to 
cure  her  in  six  months,  and  she  was   surely    enough    re- 
lieved from   pain.     She    dined    with    me,  went   to    plays, 
was  going  about  on    visits    the    whole    morning,  and,  far 
from  feeling    fatigued,  she    was    the    better    for    all    this 
exertion. 

Garat,  one  of  my  mother's  oldest  and  most  assiduous 
acquaintances,  came  one  day  to  entreat  our  attendance 
at  the  Opera  on  the  23d  of  December  to  hear  Haydn's 
fine  oratorio  of  the  (<  Creation, w  which  he,  jointly  with 
Steibelt,  had  arranged,  and  in  which  he  was  to  take  a 
part.  My  mother,  who  was  passionately  fond  of  good 
music  and  of  Garat's  singing,  readily  promised  a  com- 
pliance. She  was  to  sit  in  my  box:  and  as  Junot  dined 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  387 

with  Berthier,  the  new  Minister  of  War,  it  was  settled 
that  I  should  dine  with  her  ready  dressed,  and  Junot 
would  join  us  after  dinner. 

My  toilet  completed  for  the  evening,  I  entered  the 
carriage  with  my  brother-in-law,  and  we  found  my  mother 
beautiful,  gay,  and  enchanting.  She  was  splendidly 
dressed  in  black  velvet  and  diamonds,  and  no  one  would 
have  supposed  her  of  the  age  of  sixty-two. 

We  dined  early;  my  mother  ordered  her  horses  while 
we  took  coffee,  and  we  set  out  immediately  afterward. 
It  was  seven  when  we  arrived  at  the  Opera.  The  house 
was  crowded,  and  being  well  lighted,  and  the  ladies  in 
full  dress,  the  spectacle  was  very  brilliant. 

We  distinguished  Garat  with  his  opera  glass  in  his  hand 
earnestly  surveying  the  boxes  to  recognize  his  acquaint- 
ances; and  though  eight  o'clock  at  night,  he  sought  to 
catch  a  gleam  of  AURORA.  He  was  more  ridiculously 
dressed  than  usual;  no  very  easy  matter.  His  coat  collar 
stood  higher  than  his  head,  and  his  rather  monkeyish 
face  was  difficult  to  discern  between  ells  of  muslin  by 
way  of  cravat  below  and  a  forest  of  curls  above. 

The  instruments  were  tuned,  and  this  immense  orchestra, 
more  numerous  than  I  had  ever  seen  it  before  was  pre- 
paring to  render  Haydn's  chef-d'oeuvre  more  perfectly 
than  he  had  ever  the  gratification  of  hearing  it  himself. 

Junot  found  my  mother  and  me  in  high  spirits,  occu- 
pied in  looking  round  this  magnificent  house,  and  return- 
ing the  friendly  and  smiling  salutations  of  our  acquaintance. 
He  was  himself  in  a  peculiar  state  of  mind.  Berthier 
had  been  repeating  to  him  a  conversation  he  had  held 
with  the  First  Consul  respecting  Junot;  and  his  words 
were  so  full  of  kindness  and  friendship  that  Junot  was 
sensibly  affected,  and  his  eyes  watered,  while  happiness 
played  in  smiles  on  his  lips. 

Scarcely  were  thirty  bars  of  the  oratorio  played  be- 
fore a  violent  explosion  was  heard,  like  the  report  of  a 
cannon. 

w  What  means  that  ?  w  said  Junot  with  emotion.  He 
opened  the  box  door,  and  looked  about  for  one  of  his 
officers  or  aids-de-camp.  <(  It  is  strange!"  said  he. 
<(  How  can  the  guns  be  fired  at  this  hour  ?  Besides,  I 
should  have  known  it!  Give  me  my  hat, w  said  he  to  my 
brother;  w  I  will  go  and  see  what  it  is.M  Instantly  Chev- 


388  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

alier's  machine  occurred  to  me,  and  I  seized  the  flaps 
of  Junot's  coat,  but  he  looked  angrily  at  me,  and  im- 
patiently snatched  it  from  my  grasp. 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  First  Consul's  box 
opened  and  himself  appeared,  with  General  Lannes, 
Berthier,  and  Duroc.  He  smilingly  saluted  the  immense 
crowds,  who  mingled  frantic  yells  of  pleasure  with  their 
acclamations. 

Madame  Bonaparte  followed  in  a  few  seconds,  accom- 
panied by  Colonel  Rapp,  Madame  Murat  (who  was  near 
her  confinement),  and  Mademoiselle  Beauharnais.  Junot 
was  re-entering  the  box  to  convince  himself  of  the  First 
Consul's  serenity,  which  I  had  just  remarked  upon,  when 
Duroc  presented  himself  with  a  discomposed  countenance 
and  an  excited  air.  He  spoke  in  whispers  to  Junot,  and 
we  heard  nothing  of  his  communication;  but  at  night 
Junot  repeated  it  to  me.  (<  I  love  Duroc;  he  is  almost  as 
much  attached  to  the  First  Consul  as  Marmont  and  my- 
self. » 

Duroc's  words  sufficiently  explained  the  disturbed  con- 
dition in  which  he  appeared.  {(  The  First  Consul  has  just 
escaped  death, *  said  he  hastily  to  Junot;  <(  go  to  him;  he 
wishes  to  speak  to  you,  but  be  calm.  It  is  impossible 
the  event  should  remain  unknown  here  a  quarter  of  an 
hour ;  but  he  wishes  to  avoid  being  himself  the  means  of 
spreading  such  intelligence ;  so  come  with  me  and  let  me 
lean  on  your  arm,  for  I  tremble  all  over.  My  first  battle 
agitated  me  less.  * 

During  the  short  conference  of  the  two  friends  ths 
oratorio  had  commenced;  but  the  fine  voices  of  Mes- 
dames  Branchu  and  Walbourne ;  and  that  of  Garat,  could 
not  absorb  the  attention  of  the  audience.  All  eyes  were 
turned  toward  the  First  Consul,  and  he  alone  at  this 
moment  occupied  our  attention.  As  I  have  before  ob^ 
served,  I  had  said  nothing  to  my  mother  of  Chevalier's 
infernal  machine ;  but  my  brother-in-law  knew  the  whole 
affair,  and  I  whispered  a  word  in  his  ear,  to  dispatch 
him  in  search  of  news.  I  felt  a  presentiment  of  some 
misfortune. 

The  moment  Duroc  spoke  to  Junot  the  latter  turned 
pale  as  a  specter,  and  I  perceived  him  raise  his  hand  to 
his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of  surprise  and  despair;  but, 
being  unwilling  to  disturb  my  mother  and  the  people  in 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  389 

the  adjoining  boxes,  I  contented  myself  with  whispering 
to  Jtmot  to  ask  for  intelligence.  But  before  his  return 
we  had  heard  all.  A  subdued  murmur  began  to  spread 
from  the  stage  to  the  orchestra,  the  pit,  and  the  boxes. 
<(  The  First  Consul  has  just  been  attacked  in  the  Rue 
Saint  Nicaise. " 

The  truth  soon  circulated  throughout  the  theater,  when 
simultaneously,  and  as  it  were  by  an  electric  shock,  one 
unanimous  acclamation  was  heard.  How  tumultuous  was 
the  agitation  which  preceded  the  burst  of  national  resent- 
ment! for  in  the  first  quarter  of  an  hour  the  nation  was 
represented  by  that  crowd,  whose  indignation  against  so 
foul  an  attempt  no  words  are  capable  of  expressing. 

Meanwhile  I  was  engaged  in  observing  the  First  Con- 
sul's box,  which,  being  immediately  below  me,  enabled 
me  to  see  and  hear  nearly  all  that  passed  in  it.  He  was 
calm,  and  appeared  only  warmly  affected  when  the  gen- 
eral murmur  conveyed  to  his  ear  any  strong  expression 
of  the  public  feeling.  Madame  Bonaparte  was  not  equally 
mistress  of  her  feelings.  Her  whole  frame  was  agitated ; 
even  her  attitude,  always  so  graceful,  was  no  longer  her 
own.  She  seemed  to  tremble,  and  to  be  desirous  of 
sheltering  herself  under  her  shawl  —  the  very  shawl  which 
had  saved  her  life.  She  wept:  notwithstanding  all  her 
efforts  to  repress  her  tears,  they  were  seen  trickling 
down  her  pale  cheeks,  and  when  she  looked  toward  the 
First  Consul  her  shivering  fit  returned.  Her  daughter 
too  was  greatly  upset.  As  for  Madame  Murat,  the  char- 
acter of  the  family  shone  in  her  demeanor;  although  her 
situation  might  have  excused  the  display  of  anxiety  and 
distress  so  natural  in  the  sister  of  the  First  Consul,  she 
was,  throughout  this  trying  evening,  perfectly  composed. 

Junot,  having  received  the  orders  of  the  First  Consul, 
returned  to  desire  we  would  not  wait  for  him,  and 
immediately  left  us  upon  duty.  The  Prefect  of  Police, 
whose  box  was  next  to  mine,  had  long  since  quitted  it 
and  hastened  to  the  Prefecture.  When  Junot  was  gone, 
my  mother,  who  was  now  acquainted  with  the  whole 
affair,  told  me  that  a  young  man  of  a  military  appear- 
ance, in  the  box  beside  me,  had  just  told  the  ladies  who 
occupied  it  that  the  conspirators  had  at  first  intended  to 
lay  their  train  at  the  door  of  the  Opera,  in  which  case 
the  entire  theater  would  have  been  blown  up;  and  she 


390  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

desired  me  to  look  at  him,  and  tell  her  whether  he  were 
deserving  of  credit. 

It  was  M.  Diestrich,  aid-de-camp  to  General  Van- 
damme,  and  the  ladies  in  the  box  were  his  mother  and 
sister.  I  had  once  seen  him  at  my  own  house  on  Junot's 
reception  day,  and  had  met  him  two  days  before  at 
General  Mortier's.  I  begged  him  to  tell  me  whether 
there  was  any  new  misfortune  to  be  dreaded.  (<  It  is 
difficult,"  said  he,  w  to  answer  that  question.  Death  has 
been  averted  from  the  whole  assemblage  within 
these  walls  only  by  the  observance  of  a  general  regulation 
that  no  carriage  of  any  description  shall  be  suffered  to 
remain  at  the  door  of  a  theater  the  first  night  of  a  new 
piece.  But, w  added  M.  Diestrich,  lowering  his  voice, 
(<  none  of  the  authors  of  this  infamous  crime  are  yet 
arrested ;  who  can  answer  that  a  second  blow  may  not  be 
prepared  against  the  First  Consul  at  the  moment  of  his 
leaving  the  theater,  the  first  having  failed  ?  As  for 
myself,  I  am  come  to  fetch  my  mother  and  sister,  and 
when  I  have  seen  them  safely  home  I  shall  return,  for 
the  arm  of  a  man  is  always  necessary  in  a  tumult.0  <(  I 
will  go  too, w  said  my  mother,  <(  this  gentleman  is  per- 
fectly right ;  give  me  my  shawl,  put  on  your  own  and  let 
us  go;w  and  she  continued  urging  my  departure,  and  even 
wrapped  me  in  my  furs. 

I  knew  that  my  mother  would  go,  but  for  myself  I 
would  fain  know  Jimot's  proceedings  and  keep  him  in 
sight.  I  thought  the  First  Consul's  side  his  most 
probable  station  at  such  a  moment.  It  was  not  his  duty 
to  be  running  through  the  narrow  alleys  of  Paris  hunting 
the  conspirators  from  their  lurking  places,  and  I  might 
reasonably  suppose  he  would  not  be  far  from  the  Opera 
house.  While  I  lingered,  Junot  opened  the  box  door,  and 
hastily  said:  <(  Go  with  your  mother;  after  setting  her 
down,  borrow  her  carriage  to  convey  you  to  Madame 
Bonaparte's;  I  shall  be  there,  and  will  take  you  home;1* 
and  away  he  ran.  In  spite  of  the  excessive  cold  he  was 
covered  with  perspiration. 

My  brother-in-law  accompanied  us,  and  having  set  down 
my  mother  we  proceeded  to  the  Tuileries.  The  First 
Consul  was  returned  from  the  Opera,  and  everything 
appeared  as  calm  as  if  nothing  had  happened ;  but  in  the 
salon  things  wore  a  different  aspect.  Several  of  the 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  391 

authorities  were  assembled,  the  Ministers,  the  Consuls, 
the  Commandant  of  Paris,  General  Mortier,  Commandant 
of  the  Division,  etc.  The  First  Consul,  who  had  hitherto 
appeared  indifferent  to  all  the  attempts  against  him, 
showed  this  time  no  indulgence,  and  he  had  good  reason. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  quite  overpowered;  she  cried 
incessantly.  Independently  of  the  danger  the  First 
Consul  had  so  narrowly  escaped,  she  had  herself  nearly 
fallen  a  victim  to  the  explosion.  As  she  was  stepping 
into  the  carriage,  General  Rapp,  who  was  not  usually 
so  observant  of  the  perfect  agreement  of  colors  in  a 
lady's  dress,  observed  to  her  that  her  shawl  matched 
neither  her  gown  nor  her  jewels.  Her  perfect  elegance 
in  the  adjustment  of  all  the  accessories  of  the  toilet 
is  well  known,  and  she  returned  to  repair  the  over- 
sight. Scarcely  did  it  detain  her  three  minutes,  yet 
these  sufficed  for  separating  her  carriage  from  that  of 
the  First  Consul,  which  it  was  to  have  followed  close. 
This  delay  saved  her! 

The  explosion  took  place  just  as  Madame  Bonaparte's 
carriage  reached  the  Carrousel ;  its  windows  were  broken, 
and  pieces  of  the  glass  fell  on  the  neck  and  shoulders  of 
Mademoiselle  Beauharnais,  who  sat  on  the  front  seat  of 
the  carriage,  and  her  shawl  did  not  protect  her  from 
some  slight  cuts. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  barrel  containing  the  powder 
and  charge  (and  which  resembled  those  borne  by  the 
water  carriers)  was  placed  on  a  crazy  little  cart,  drawn 
by  a  mare,  and  so  stationed  as  to  impede  the  road.  It 
was  intended,  while  in  the  act  of  removal  by  the  guards, 
to  explode  by  internal  machinery,  and  destroy  every- 
thing within  reach.  It  was  afterward  said  that  the 
rapidity  of  his  carriage  alone  had  saved  the  First  Consul, 
and  no  doubt  this  circumstance  had  its  share  in  his  de- 
liverance ;  but  the  real  cause  of  it  was  the  result  of  mere 
chance.  The  piquet  of  chasseurs  escorting  the  First 
Consul  preceded  and  followed  the  carriage. 

One  of  the  foremost,  perceiving  that  an  old  cart  ob- 
structed the  way,  called  to  the  driver  to  get  on  one  side ; 
but  seeing  no  one  (for  Saint  Regent,  who  lighted  the 
train,  was  concealed  behind  a  palisade),  he  struck  the 
mare  smartly  on  the  haunches  with  the  flat  of  his  saber, 
which  set  her  in  motion,  and  advancing  three  or  four 


392  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

steps  she  seems  to  have  deranged  the  packthread,  which, 
by  opening  a  valve,  was  to  admit  air  and  cause  the 
explosion. 

The  consequent  delay  was  but  momentary,  yet  it  suf- 
ficed to  insure  the  safety  of  the  First  Consul,  whose 
carriage  had  meanwhile  turned  through  the  Rue  de  Make 
into  the  Rue  Richelieu,  instead  of  passing  through  the 
Rue  Saint  Nicaise,  where  the  machine  was.  The  mare 
was  killed,  but  without  any  external  mark  of  injury,  so 
that  a  description  of  her  was  everywhere  placarded,  and 
the  body  deposited  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police  in  order 
that  the  public  might  see  and  examine  it,  and  perhaps 
be  able  to  say  to  whom  she  formerly  belonged. 

Such  was  the  violence  of  the  explosion,  so  terrible  the 
impulsion,  that  a  part  of  the  wheel  and  one  of  the  iron 
bands  that  encircled  the  cask,  darting  across  the  inter- 
vening space  from  the  Rue  de  Malte  to  the  Hotel 
d'Elbceuf,  and  unarrested  even  by  the  lofty  height  of 
that  hotel,  were  hurled  some  distance  beyond  it. 

Curiosity  proved  fatal  to  many  inhabitants  of  the  Rues 
Saint  Nicaise  and  de  Malte.  Madame  Leger,  mistress  of 
the  Cafe*  Apollo,  at  the  corner  of  the  two  streets,  run- 
ning to  the  door,  according  to  her  custom  whenever  the 
First  Consul  was  to  be  seen  passing,  had  both  her 
breasts  carried  off  by  one  of  the  hoops  of  the  barrel, 
and  survived  but  three  days. 

One  of  the  waiters  at  the  same  caf<?  was  killed,  and  the 
other  wounded.  The  number  of  the  victims  has  been 
much  exaggerated.  I  have  proofs  that  on  that  day  the 
deaths  did  not  exceed  nine:  they  may,  including  the  con- 
sequences, have  afterward  amounted  to  twenty-nine  or 
thirty.  Great,  no  doubt ;  but  far  less  frightful  than  if  we 
had  had  to  deplore  the  loss  of  two  thousand  people,  as 
would  have  been  the  case  had  not  the  sentinel  peremp- 
torily resisted  the  placing  of  the  cart  at  the  door  of  the 
Opera  House. 

It  was  not  till  my  return  home  at  night  that  I  was  in- 
formed of  Junot's  share  in  the  danger.  On  his  road  to 
the  Opera  from  the  Ministry  of  War,  which  was  then  at 
the  Hotel  d'Avray,  Rue  de  Lille,  passing  under  the  arch 
of  the  Carrousel,  he  recollected  that  it  was  only  seven, 
and  the  First  Consul  would  not  have  set  out.  He  there- 
fore ordered  his  coachman  to  stop  at  the  Tuileries;  but 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  393 

the  restiveness  of  his  young  and  spirited  horses  ( we 
drove  at  that  time  the  finest  in  Paris)  frustrated  this 
scheme.  They  were  going  with  tremendous  rapidity,  and 
the  coachman  found  it  impossible  to  stop  them  till  it 
would  have  become  necessary  to  make  a  very  awkward 
turn,  and  to  again  pass  a  narrow  part  of  the  street. 
Junot,  therefore,  with  some  signs  of  impatience,  relin- 
quished his  design,  and  again  gave  the  word  w  to  the 
Opera. w  Had  he  alighted  at  the  Tuileries,  Napoleon's 
carriage  being  full,*  he  must  have  followed  in  his  own; 
and  the  train  of  guards,  the  last  of  whom  had  his  horse 
killed,  would  most  certainly  have  been  blown  up.  No 
one,  however,  appeared  sensible  of  the  danger  he  had 
escaped  but  myself  and  the  coachman,  who  for  more  than 
a  year  could  not  pass  the  Place  du  Carrousel  without  a 
shudder. 

All  the  authorities,  the  corporations,  the  tribunals, — 
everything  that  could  call  itself  constituted,  or  wore  the 
appearance  of  a  body, —  congratulated  the  First  Consul 
and  entreated  him  as  a  favor  to  pay  more  attention  to 
his  personal  safety.  The  Council  of  State,  with  Boulay 
de  la  Meurthe  at  the  head  of  its  deputation,  demanded 
especially  that  he  would  take  measures  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  public  order.  But  the  most  remarkable  address 
was  that  of  the  City  of  Paris.  This  unfortunate  city  saw 
her  interests  at  stake,  exposed  as  she  was  to  become  the 
victim  of  miscreants,  who  cared  not  if,  in  the  accom- 
plishment of  their  own  criminal  views,  they  brought  de- 
struction on  thousands  of  unoffending  citizens. 

It  was  Etienne  Mejean,  Secretary-General  of  the  De- 
partment of  the  Seine,  at  the  head  of  the  Mayors  and 
of  the  General  Council,  who  spoke,  instead  of  Frochot, 
then  Prefect,  who  was  too  ill  to  exercise  his  functions. 
Contemporary  memoirs  have  made  the  Prefect  present 
the  Mayors  to  the  First  Consul,  and  have  quoted  his 
speech  on  the  occasion.  The  question  may  or  may  not 
be  an  important  one;  but  knowing  the  truth  I  report  it. 

The  next  day,  the  24th  of  December,  the  agitation  of 
Paris  was  extreme.  The  heinous  nature  of  the  plot  was 
known  overnight,  but  its  details  were  not  generally  un- 
derstood till  the  morning;  and  I  cannot  too  often  repeat, 

*  Lauriston,  aid-de-camp  on  duty  ;  Lannes,  commanding  the 
guards,  and  Berthier,  Minister  of  War,  were  with  Napoleon. 


394  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

that  the  indignation  they  excited  was  universal,  and  the 
interest  manifested  for  the  First  Consul  beyond  expres- 
sion. 

It  may  be  well  imagined  that  all  the  authorities,  civil 
and  military,  were  at  once  in  a  state  of  activity,  requir- 
ing no  other  stimulus.  Opinions  differed  upon  the  di- 
rection the  researches  should  take.  Junot  and  Fouche, 
who  did  not  usually  agree  on  police  measures,  could  not 
convert  the  First  Consul  to  their  persuasion  that  all  these 
frequent  atrocities  had  their  mainsprings  both  in  France 
and  at  a  distance  from  it.  Napoleon  was  of  a  different 
opinion.  "They  are  the  work,'*  said  he,  <(of  those  same 
Enrages,  who  embrace  in  their  number  a  multitude  of 
Septembrisers;  w  and  nothing  could  shake  this  idea.  Yet 
it  was  notorious  that  these  men  were  but  the  foreposts 
of  a  party,  and  the  cat's-paws  of  their  secret  instigators. 

(<  Do  you  believe  that  the  cutthroats  of  the  2d  and 
3d  of  September,  or  that  the  executioners  of  the  Re- 
publican marriages  at  Nantes,  or  the  men  who  filled  the 
ditches  of  Avignon  with  corpses,  the  assassins  of  the 
prisoners  at  Versailles,  those  wretches  who  for  two  years 
waded  ankle  deep  in  blood,  signing  decrees  of  death 
against  the  aged,  such  as  the  Abbess  of  Montmartre  at 
ninety,  or  young  victims  of  sixteen,  such  as  the  maids  of 
Verdun  —  do  you  believe,  sir, w  and  he  advanced  a  pace 
or  two  nearer  to  Fouche  — <c  do  you  believe  that  all  these 
men  love  liberty  and  the  Republic?  Can  you  answer 
YES?  If  you  do,  I  for  my  part  shall  say  NO.  I  tell  you 
that  they  are  men  determined  on  licentiousness  —  men 
who,  on  the  very  eve  of  the  massacers  I  have  enumer- 
ated, had  not  wherewith  to  pay  for  a  loaf,  and  six 
months  afterward  were  living  in  opulence;  because  they 
could,  without  a  symptom  of  remorse,  wear  the  clothing 
and  sleep  in  the  beds  of  their  victims.  You  will  tell  me, 
perhaps,  that  some  among  them  are  still  poor:  it  may 
be  so;  but  for  the  most  part  they  have  long  feasted  on 
blood.  I  know  what  I  know,"  added  he,  shaking  his 
head. 

<(  A  handful  of  wretches,  who  have  calumniated  Lib- 
erty by  the  crimes  they  have  committed  in  her  name, 
are  the  guilty  parties, M  said  the  First  Consul.  Dubois 
would  not  contradict  him,  though  it  was  evident  he 
thought  with  Junot  and  Fouche.  Fouche  replied,  «  These 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  395 

are  fellows  incapable  of  conceiving.  They  execute  as  the 
horse  did  who  drew  the  machine,  but  can  go  no  further. 
It  would  be  useless  were  I  to  run  after  these  men  of 
the  Abbaye-aux-Bois.*  Only  leave  me  time,  and  I  will 
unravel  many  things. " 

For  two  days  Junot  scarcely  allowed  himself  an  in- 
stant's repose.  He  would  not  intrust  to  subalterns  a 
commission  so  important  as  the  pursuit  of  the  agents  in 
so  atrocious  an  enterprise.  He  rose  almost  before  day- 
break, and  from  the  headquarters  of  the  garrison  di- 
rected everything  that  fell  under  his  jurisdiction.  The 
activity,  intelligence,  and  honorable  devotedness  of  his 
coadjutor  M.  Doucet,  Chief  Adjutant  General  of  the  gar- 
rison, cannot  be  too  highly  praised. 

At  ten  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  5th  Junot  came 
home,  overcome  with  fatigue,  and  though  he  had  prom- 
ised to  fetch  me  from  my  mother's,  could  not  rally  his 
faculties  from  the  drowsiness  which  oppressed  them. 

On  my  arrival,  my  maid  told  me  he  was  gone  to  bed, 
and  had  requested  I  would  wish  him  good  night.  Ac- 
cordingly, I  entered  my  chamber,  and,  finding  him  in  a 
deep  sleep,  leaned  over  him  and  said,  "What!  already 
asleep  ? J>  His  nights  generally  restless,  were  at  this 
anxious  period  disturbed  by  frightful  dreams;  and  at  the 
moment  I  spoke  he  was  dreaming  that  he  was  in  the 
Cabinet  of  the  First  Consul,  which  was  filled  with  con- 
spirators, one  of  whom  was  in  the  act  of  firing  a  machine. 
My  words  had  partly  roused  him,  and  the  firelight  fa- 
voring the  illusion  of  his  dream,  he  mistook  me  for  the 
assassin,  and  with  a  furious  kick  drove  me  to  the  further 
extremity  of  the  room.  My  cries  awakened  him,  and, 
becoming  sensible  who  had  been  the  object  of  his  attack, 
he  was  much  agitated. 

*The  Abbaye-aux-Bois,  situated  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain, 
was  the  principal  place  for  the  meetings  of  the  conspirators  at  that 
time. 


396  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 


CHAPTER    LV. 

My  Visits  to  the  Tuileries  after  the  23 d  of  December — Conversation 
with  the  First  Consul  —  Inutility  of  an  Additional  Victim  —  Bona- 
parte's Opinion  of  My  Mother's  Drawing  Room  —  His  Condemnation 
of  the  Emigrants  —  «M.  Roger  de  Damas,»  a  Synonym  for  Bravery 

—  The  Horse  and  the  Cloak  —  Madame  Murat  at  the  Hotel  de  Brionne 

—  Promenade   to   Villiers  —  M.    Baudelocque  and  Madame  Frangeau 

—  «We  are  Not  Rich  »— The  First  Consul's  Character  —  Portalis  at 
Malmaison  —  The  Preamble  of  the  Civil  Code. 

WE  WERE  more  than  commonly  assiduous  in  our  at- 
tendance at  the  Tuileries  after  the  explosion  of  the 
infernal  machine;  my  mother  herself  pressed  it 
upon  me,  and,  when  desirous  of  my  company,  would 
sacrifice  it  to  send  me  to  the  Palace.  (<  Be  very  partic- 
ular,w  said  she,  <(  to  express  to  General  Bonaparte  the 
distress  which  this  horrible  affair  has  occasioned  me. 
No  set  speeches,  such  as  you  would  address  to  a  Tri- 
bunal or  a  Council  of  State,  but  depict  in  its  true  colors 
all  that  I  suffered  on  the  evening  and  night  of  the  2 3d 
of  December.® 

The  attempted  assassination  made  her  shudder;  she 
wept  violently  on  her  return  home,  and  in  the  night  had 
a  violent  access  of  fever,  which  made  her  very  ill  for 
two  days. 

When  I  acquitted  myself  of  her  commission  to  the  First 
Consul,  his  answer  was  of  a  nature  to  have  confounded 
anyone  less  acquainted  with  his  character  than  I  was. 
He  looked  me  steadily  in  the  face,  fixed  on  me  that 
piercing  and  fiery  eye,  which,  by  its  quick  and  earnest 
expression,  magnetized  those  it  encountered,  and  desired 
me  to  repeat  my  mother's  message. 

(<  I  have  had  the  honor,  General,  of  expressing  to  you, 
in  my  mother's  name,  the  lively  anxiety  she  felt  in  the 
incidents  of  the  23d.  She  hopes  you  do  not  doubt  her 
sincerity. B 

w  Yet  she  ran  away,  and  you  too,  before  the  end  of  the 
oratorio. w 

I  made  ro  reply,  but  looked  at  General  Bonaparte 
with  an  expression  which  he  probably  interpreted  liter- 
ally; for  he  added,  withdrawing  his  gaze  from  me,  and 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  397 

turning-  toward  the  window,  although  it  was  night,  and 
nothing  could  be  seen  in  the  Palace  court,  w  To  be  sure 
it  would  have  availed  nothing  toward  my  safety,  had  any 
peril  awaited  me,  that  one  more  victim  should  have  ex- 
posed herself  to  it. w 

<(  Let  me  add,  General,  that  in  the  eyes  of  my  mother 
it  was  her  daughter  who  was  in  danger;  in  mine,  it  was 
my  mother.  We  mutually  owed  regard  to  each  other's 
safety;  for  myself,  I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  affirm 
that  I  left  the  Opera  with  the  greatest  reluctance;  for  I 
knew  that  Junot  must  partake  the  danger  that  threatened 
his  General,  and  this  idea  was  painful  to  me;  but  I 
could  not  suffer  my  mother  to  run  the  risk  without  be- 
ing in  some  degree  criminal. w 

(<Yes,  yes;  undoubtedly,  undoubtedly, w  answered  the 
First  Consul,  with  an  inflection  of  voice  it  would  be 
impossible  to  describe ;  *  I  am  altogether  ridiculous  to 
have  spoken  so  thoughtlessly,  for  you  must  call  it  so.  I 
know  in  your  mother's  circle  everything  is  acceptable 
that  may  make  me  appear  in  an  unfavorable  light." 

<(  General, w  replied  I,  much  hurt  that  he  persisted  in 
the  belief  that  my  mother's  drawing-room  was  a  center 
for  the  dissemination  of  hatred  against  him,  <(how  can  I 
convince  you  ?  It  can  be  accomplished  only  by  one 
means,  and  that  is  in  the  power  of  God  alone  —  it  is, 
that  the  accent  of  truth  may  reach  your  heart.  I  have 
the  honor  to  tell  you,  Citizen  Consul,  that  never  has  a 
word  to  your  prejudice  been  uttered  in  my  mother's 
drawing-room  but  either  she  or  my  brother  has  instantly 
imposed  silence  on  the  holders  of  language  which  my 
mother's  friendship  for  you,  and  for  all  your  family, 
would  interdict,  even  though  it  were  the  language  of 
truth. » 

"Ah!"  said  the  First  Consul,  "you  admit,  then,  that 
persons  inimical  to  me  are  received  in  your  mother's 
drawing-room?  * 

a  I  have  spoken  with  frankness,  General,  and  shall  con- 
tinue to  do  so.  Unquestionably,  among  my  mother's 
acquaintances  are  some  who  are  unfriendly  to  the  present 
Government;  I  pretend  neither  to  blame  nor  absolve 
them.  I  know  that  they  are  suffering  the  consequences 
of  a  long  exile,  that  their  property  is  confiscated,  that 
most  of  them  are  in  indigence,  that  many  still  groan 


398  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

under  the  proscription ;  but  all  these  evils  are  not  ascrib- 
able  to  you,  and  to  resent  them  upon  you  would  be  equally 
unjust  and  absurd.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  believe 
also » 

I  stopped,  and,  half  smiling,  looked  at  the  First  Consul, 
who  continued  my  sentence  —  <(That  I  should  be  unjust 
in  my  turn  if  I  obliged  them  to  cry,  Vive  la  Rfyublique! 
Is  not  that  your  meaning,  Madame  Junot  ?  But  if  they 
do  not  like  that  word,  why  do  they  return  to  France  ? 
Who  recalls  them  ?  They  are  not  wanted  in  any  branch 
of  the  Administration.  Fouche  and  Chaptal  will  be  quite 
as  good  Ministers  as  M.  le  Comte  d'Entraigues,  and  Junot 
and  Lannes  will  command  my  soldiers  as  well  as  M. 
Roger  de  Damas,  brave  as  he  is.** 

<(  But,  General,*  answered  I,  (<  is  not  our  native  soil  the 
property  of  all  her  children  ?  Cannot  a  Frenchman  re- 
turn home  without  the  inducement  of  a  place  ?  Is  there 
not  an  attraction  infinitely  more  powerful  ?  I  know  there 
is,  by  the  experience  of  my  own  family;  my  uncle,  M.  de 
Comnena,  is  returned  to  France,  to  live  in  peace  and  in 
the  hope  of  a  better  future.  And  he  certainly  did  not 
want  confidence  in  your  generosity,  for  he  re-entered 
France  without  a  passport,  without  even  an  encouraging 
word ;  and  as  he  was  far  from  expecting  to  find  his  niece 
the  bride  of  one  of  your  Generals,  he  reckoned  only  on 
the  magnanimity  of  the  Government  toward  a  man  who 
surrenders  himself.  * 

<(  Your  uncle  does  not  like  me,  and  I  may  add  he  does 
not  like  the  Republic;  besides,  he  emigrated,  and  I  con- 
sider all  emigrants  in  the  light  of  parricides.  Neverthe- 

*  Whenever  the  bravery  of  the  emigrants  was  Napoleon's  topic,  M. 
Roger  de  Damas  was  always  the  example.  He  related  a  certain  story, 
which  I  never  heard  but  from  him,  about  the  head  of  a  horse  enveloped 
in  a  cloak,  and  a  leap  into  the  sea,  horse  and  rider ;  Quiberon  was  the 
theater.  But  as  it  was  neither  easy  to  follow  Bonaparte  in  his  narra- 
tive, nor  to  extract  from  him  a  repetition,  I  never  exactly  understood 
the  particulars  of  this  anecdote.  All  that  I  could  gather  from  it  was, 
that  M.  Roger  de  Damas,  seeing  himself  on  the  point  of  being  taken, 
had  wrapped  his  horse's  head  in  his  cloak,  that  the  animal  might  not  be 
sensible  of  his  danger,  atid  striking  the  spurs  into  his  sides,  had  made 
him  leap  into  the  sea.  I  made  inquiries  of  a  person  who  had  served  in 
Conde's  army,  and  he  assured  me  the  circumstance  was  true,  but  had 
not  happened  at  O,uiberon.  I  give  it  as  I  heard  it,  and  that  was  from 
Napoleon. 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  399 

less,  I  have  complied  with  Junot's  demands  in  favor  of 
M.  de  Comnena;  for, w  added  he,  "Madame  Permon  care- 
fully avoids  presenting  a  petition  to  me,  even  in  favor  of 
her  brother." 

This  was  true;  my  mother  had  said,  w  If  he  be  so  dis- 
posed, he  will  do  it  for  Junot ;  and  if  not,  what  good  can 
my  interference  effect  ? w 

My  mother  was,  however,  mistaken ;  the  General  would 
never  have  refused  to  Madame  Permon  what  the  First 
Consul  of  the  Republic  might  perhaps  have  thought  it 
inconsistent  with  his  duty  to  grant  to  General  Junot. 

I  remember  that  the  same  day  the  First  Consul  talked 
to  me  of  all  my  family;  inquired  whether  my  grandmother 
was  still  living;  what  was  become  of  my  uncle,  the  Abbe" 
de  Comnena;  he  also  spoke  of  my  brother,  and  his  friendly 
intentions  toward  him.  Junot's  relations  were  not  men- 
tioned; he  spoke  only  of  my  own. 

As  I  have  before  said,  I  went  often  to  Madame  Bona- 
parte; Madame  Murat,  who  was  expecting  her  confine- 
ment, was  also  a  frequent  visitor,  and  I  never  met  her 
without  pleasure.  She  was  unaffected,  a  dutiful  daughter, 
a  fond  wife,  and  every  way  interesting. 

One  day  I  visited  her  at  the  Hotel  de  Brionne,  where 
she  was  then  living;  she  occupied  the  ground  floor,  and 
M.  Benezeck,  with  all  his  family,  the  first.  I  found  her 
getting  into  her  carriage  for  a  ride  to  Villiers  (Neuilly), 
which  the  First  Consul  had  just  given  her,  and  she  pro- 
posed my  accompanying  her,  to  which  I  acceded,  and  we 
set  out,  having  the  precaution  to  take  her  nurse,  Madame 
Frangeau,  with  us. 

Madame  Frangeau  was  the  favorite  of  Baudelocque, 
and  could  recount  the  minutiae  of  youth,  maturity,  and 
declining  age  of  her  patron,  with  commentaries  and  ad- 
ditions which  each  recital  magnified  by  half;  will  not 
the  simple  mention  of  her  name  recall  to  the  Queen  of 
Naples,  the  Queen  of  Holland,  the  Duchesse  de  Frioul, 
and  to  all  the  young  mothers  of  that  day,  who,  like  my- 
self, were  subjected  to  her  six  weeks'  thraldom,  her 
gown  of  the  fashion  of  the  Regency,  and  her  whimsi- 
cally antiquated  headdress,  oddly  contrasted  with  finery 
in  the  style  of  1800? 

This  little  ride  to  Villiers  dwells  on  my  mind,  because 
so  excessive  was  our  mirth  at  Madame  Frangeau's  stories 


400  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

that  at  one  moment  I  had  fears  for  Caroline.  She,  how- 
ever, thought  not  of  accidents;  she  was  better  engaged 
in  devouring  ten  or  twelve  large  bunches  of  grapes  and 
two  rolls  a  la  duchcsse,  which  Madame  Frangeau  had 
ordered  to  be  put  into  the  carriage.  I  never  saw  such 
an  appetite !  <(  Will  you  have  some  ? }>  said  she,  recollect- 
ing at  last  that  all  the  way  from  the  Barriers  she  had 
been  eating  without  a  companion. 

After  driving  round  the  park  of  Villiers,  and  laying 
in  a  fresh  stock  of  provisions  (for  the  basket  was  emptied) 
we  returned  home.  <(The  First  Consul,  in  the  gift  of 
this  country  seat,  has  been  most  generous  to  us,w  said 
Caroline.  <(  We  are  not  rich,  and  if  my  brother  had  not 
added  the  means  of  furnishing  and  supporting  the  house 
it  had  been  useless  to  us.w  In  after  times,  when  Murat, 
returning  from  Italy,  undertook  the  government  of  Paris 
on  Junot's  departure  for  Arras,  no  impossibility  of  this 
nature  prevented  his  furnishing  and  inhabiting  the  Hotel 
de  Thelusson. 

Our  evenings,  even  after  the  play,  if  it  were  not  too 
late,  were  spent  at  Madame  Bonaparte's.  There  we  en- 
joyed the  happiness  of  meeting  the  First  Consul. 

His  conversation,  always  attractive  by  its  depth  of 
thought,  and  the  air  of  originality  reflected  from  his  rich 
and  brilliant  imagination,  acquired  increased  interest 
from  the  consciousness  that  at  such  a  moment  all  he  said 
was  of  importance.  For  this  reason  I  seldom  missed  the 
quintidian  dinners.  In  spite  of  crowd,  noise,  and  bustle, 
it  was  easy  to  hear  the  conversation  of  the  First  Consul 
with  the  men  of  talent  and  learning  of  France.  The 
most  profound  civilians,  the  ablest  financiers,  the  most 
subtle  diplomatists,  thronged  around  to  hear  him,  and 
appeared  to  be  rather  taking  lessons  from  him  than 
imparting  their  knowledge  to  a  young  man,  whose  pale 
complexion  bore  witness  to  watchings  and  fatigues  far 
exceeding  theirs,  though  the  superiority  of  years  was 
greatly  on  their  side. 

For  a  just  appreciation  of  the  First  Consul's  character, 
he  should  have  been  listened  to  at  Malmaison,  or  in 
Madame  Bonaparte's  salon  at  Paris;  but  never  was  he  so 
interesting  as  at  the  period  I  am  sketching,  imperfectly, 
indeed,  considering  the  strong  and  vigorous  coloring  re- 
quired, when  designed  for  eyes  which  cannot  by  the  aid 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  401 

of  personal  recollection  fill   up   the  mere  outlines  of   the 
picture. 

It  was  when  surrounded  by  the  first  men  of  the  day 
that  the  First  Consul  should  have  been  seen  and  heard ; 
he  then  exhibited  a  fire  which  diffused  life  and  warmth 
on  all  around  him:  I  had  never  before  seen  him  in  so 
splendid  a  light,  and  I  was  more  than  astonished  at  it. 
Its  effect  upon  me  was  at  once  seducing  like  an  attractive 
charm,  and  strongly  agitating  from  the  conclusive  and 
perfectly  convincing  brevity  of  his  eloquence. 

On  M.  Portalis  arriving,  the  First  Consul  met  him, 
and,  taking  his  hand,  led  him  to  Madame  Bonaparte. 
He  had  a  great  esteem  for  him.  Portalis  was  not  then 
afflicted  with  blindness;  his  sight  was  painful,  but  he  did 
not  yet  require  a  guide.  The  First  Consul  spoke  to  him 
as  soon  as  he  entered  about  the  preamble  of  the  Code, 
which  had  been  intrusted  to  him. 

"You  are  idle,  Citizen  Portalis, w  said  the  First  Consul, 
laughing.  <(  You  must  make  more  haste ;  all  the  world  is 
crying  out  after  our  Code;  we  must  move  fast  where 
business  is  concerned.* 

(<  Ah !  General, w  answered  the  worthy  man,  laughing  in 
his  turn,  <(you  give  others  credit  for  your  own  gift  of 
magic.  As  for  you,  you  were  endowed  at  your  birth; 
but  we,  poor  simple  mortals,  must  feel  our  way  soberly. 
Besides,  do  not  you  know,  General,  that  our  Code  has 
only  been  a  year  concocting;  and  that  a  code  of  laws  is 
an  immense  national  monument,  which  requires  time  to 
erect  ?  You  have  worked  at  it  as  well  as  we,  and  you 
know  it  is  a  skein  not  easily  unraveled.0 

(<  Yes,  certainly,  certainly, w  said  the  First  Consul ;  u  but 
we  must  advance, w  he  repeated  still ;  w  we  must  advance : 
is  the  preamble  ready  ?  w 

(<  The  First  Consul  is  well  assured  that  I  shall  always 
fulfill,  not  my  duty  merely,  but  far  more  than  my  duty, 
to  second  his  great  and  noble  projects  for  the  happiness 
of  France, w  replied  M.  Portalis;  (( the  preamble  is  com- 
pleted. » 

(<Ah,  you  are  a  good  and  excellent  Frenchman!"  said 
the  First  Consul  — w  well  and  good!  I  like  such  men  as 
you  and  the  brave  Duveyrier.  I  am  happy  when  I  see 
such  around  me ;  and  so  seconded,  I  cannot  do  otherwise 
than  well.* 
26 


402  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME  JUNOT 


CHAPTER   LVI. 

Female  Breakfasts  at  the  Tuileries  —  Madame  Vaines — The  Lioness 
en  Couche,  and  Visit  to  the  Menagerie  with  Madame  Bonaparte  —  Ma- 
rengo,  the  Eldest  of  the  Lions  —  The  First  Consul  Joins  Us  at  the 
Botanical  Gardens — Bonaparte  and  Felix  the  Keeper  —  The  Liar 
Caught  in  the  Fact,  and  the  Crocodiles  of  the  Bosphorus  — 
Reminiscences  of  Egypt  by  the  First  Consul  —  The  Psylli  and  the 
Serpents. 

I  WAS  engaged  to  breakfast  with  Madame  Bonaparte  at 
the  Tuileries.  Her  custom  of  inviting  young  married 
women,  too  timid  to  make  themselves  agreeable  in 
the  society  of  superior  men,  was  delightful  to  me.  Chat- 
ting with  Madame  Bonaparte,  during  the  perfectly  un- 
ceremonious repast,  upon  fashions,  and  all  the  little  interests 
of  society,  these  young  ladies  acquired  confidence,  and 
threw  off  that  reserve  which  the  presence  of  the  First 
Consul  was  calculated  to  inspire. 

Madame  Bonaparte  did  the  honors  with  grace  and 
vivacity;  we  were  generally  five  or  six,  and  all  of  the 
same  age,  the  mistress  of  the  house  excepted.  At  Mal- 
maison  the  number  was  sometimes  twelve  or  fifteen,  and 
the  breakfast  was  served  in  a  small  circular  salon  look- 
ing into  the  court,  and  which  is  now  present  to  my 
imagination,  though  I  have  not  entered  it  these  sixteen 
years. 

One  day,  at  the  Tuileries  breakfast,  I  met  Madame 
Vaines,  who  was  high  in  favor  both  with  the  First  Con- 
sul and  Madame  Bonaparte,  and  another  person,  whose 
name  I  forget;  all  I  remember  is,  that  it  must  have  been 
a  female,  for  men  were  never  admitted  to  these  morning 
f/tes,  the  First  Consul  positively  prohibiting  it.  Madame 
Bonaparte  told  us  she  was  going  to  make  a  visit  to  a 
lying-in  lady,  and  inquired  if  we  would  accompany  her. 
We  acceded,  but  begged  to  know  in  our  turn  who  was 
the  object  of  our  visit.  She  answered,  that  to  be  sure 
it  was  a  personage  who  might  eat  us,  but  that  at  present 
she  was  in  a  gentle  mood;  in  short,  it  was  the  lioness 
of  the  Botanical  Garden,  who  had  been  delivered  at  her 
full  tirre  of  three  whelps,  all  living.  The  First  Consul 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  403 

had  been  already  there;  but  as  Madame  Bonaparte  had 
informed  him  of  her  proposal,  he  had  promised  to  join 
us  if  his  engagements  would  permit. 

The  lioness  was  doing  well,  but  was,  as  Madame  Bona- 
parte had  told  us,  in  a  languishing  mood.  Felix  Cassal, 
her  keeper,  entered  the  cage,  took  the  cubs  from  her, 
and  the  poor  beast,  without  moving,  turned  her  eyes  on 
him  with  an  expression  of  softness  and  affection.  She 
was  extended  in  her  cage  on  a  good  litter,  and  her  little 
ones  lay  rolled  in  thick  coarse  carpets,  as  warmly  as  in 
the  African  sands. 

Madame  Bonaparte  took  one  of  the  cubs  in  her  hands, 
which  drew  forth  a  growl  from  the  mother;  but  Felix 
spoke  to  her,  and  acknowledging  his  voice  by  a  momen- 
tary glance  of  more  fierceness  than  the  former,  she  again 
turned  to  the  offender,  and  renewed  her  growl.  Madame 
Bonaparte  was  alarmed.  (<  Oh !  never  fear, n  said  Felix ; 
*  she  is  behind  a  strong  grating,  and,  besides,  she  has 
not  yet  recovered  her  strength ;  she  would  not  hurt  much. " 
w  Oh !  *  said  Madame  Bonaparte,  <(  I  can  dispense  with 
the  trial  of  her  strength;  there  would  be  quite  enough 
remaining  to  make  me  repent  having  caressed  her  son. w 

This  Cassal  was  an  extraordinary  man  in  his  way.  He 
was  a  great  traveler,  and  had  made  interesting  observa- 
tions, even  on  the  common  habits  of  the  country  he  had 
passed  through;  and  though  he  pretended  to  have  seen 
marvels  altogether  incredible,  yet  all  he  said  was  not 
false,  and  both  amusement  and  instruction  might  be  ex- 
tracted from  him.  He  had  himself  purchased  the  lioness 
of  some  Arabs,  who  had  taken  her  in  the  environs  of 
Constantinople.  While  she  was  enceinte,  a  child  having 
wounded  her  in  the  eye  with  a  stone,  she  threw  herself 
into  so  violent  a  passion  as  to  produce  abortion;  and  as 
she  brought  forth  the  present  litter  a  hundred  days 
afterward,  that  must  have  been  the  utmost  extent  of  her 
parturition,  which  disproves  the  conjectures  of  Pliny 
and  Buffon;  the  latter,  I  believe,  asserts  that  the  lioness 
is  six  or  seven  months  with  young. 

She  littered  on  the  i8th  Brumaire,  and  Felix  named 
the  firstborn  whelp  Marengo.  "Was  not  I  a  good  god- 
father?" said  he  to  Madame  Bonaparte. 

He  made  me  touch  one  of  the  whelps;  but  the  lioness, 
who  had  turned  away  and  appeared  to  think  no  more  of 


404  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

the  matter,  suddenly  started  up   to  her   full   height,  and 
uttered  a  roar  that  shook  the  very  walls. 

Felix  soothed  her,  and  took  the  cub  himself.  He  told 
us  that  the  First  Consul,  on  his  visit  to  the  lioness,  had 
caressed  her,  and  was  very  well  received.  (<  He  inquired 
the  hour  of  her  delivery, w  said  Felix;  (<  the  nature  of  her 
food,  and  especially  of  her  beverage;  and  the  General 
who  was  with  him  gave  me  a  bright  piece  of  gold,  that 
the  lioness  might  drink  to  the  health  of  the  Republic,  a 
direction  I  have  obeyed.  Oh,  he  thinks  of  everything, 
the  Citizen  Consul ! )J  While  he  spoke,  I  was  meditating 
on  the  fortunes  of  this  extraordinary  man,  which  seemed 
to  be  mysteriously  linked  with  all  the  wonders  of  his 
age. 

The  First  Consul  met  us  on  horseback  before  we  had 
quitted  the  gardens,  and  Felix  no  sooner  perceived  him 
than  he  hurried  forward  to  report  the  bulletin  of  the 
lioness;  assuring  him  that  she  had  drunk  to  his  health, 
and  that  she  was  wonderfully  well.  Napoleon  caressed 
her,  and  talked  with  Felix  of  all  his  beasts,  with  as 
much  ease,  and  as  perfect  a  knowledge  of  their  proper- 
ties and  habits,  as  if  this  branch  of  science  had  been 
his  particular  study. 

Felix,  finding  such  encouragement,  entered  upon  one 
of  his  best  stories;  but  just  as  he  arrived  (on  his  own 
showing)  at  the  most  astonishing  point,  Napoleon  patted 
him  on  the  head  with : 

<(  Felix,  you  lie,  my  boy;  there  are  no  crocodiles  in  the 
place  you  speak  of,  nor  never  were ;  but  it    is    all    one  — 
proceed  with  your  story. n 

This  was  more  easily  said  than  done.  Felix  was  so 
thoroughly  disconcerted  by  the  First  Consul's  apostrophe, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  recover  the  thread  of  his  ad- 
venture. 

<(Well,  it  will  do  for  another  day, J>  said  Napoleon 
good-humoredly ;  (<  only  remember  that  crocodiles  do  not 
devour  those  who  bathe  in  the  Bosphorus,  otherwise  it 
would  have  been  much  easier  to  kill  Leander  by  that 
means  than  by  drowning,  as  he  had  no  boat,  pcor 
fellow ! » 

We  promenaded  for  some  time  in  these  beautiful  gardens 
and  their  fine  greenhouses.  They  are  greatly  improved 
since ;  yet  the  Botanical  Gardens  were  even  then  the  most 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  405 

complete  institution  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  Other  mu- 
seums were  richer  in  particular  articles,  but  ours  alone 
possessed  that  superiority  in  all,  which  has  since  rendered 
it  the  universal  rendezvous  for  the  study  of  natural  his- 
tory. Napoleon  observed  that  day:  "It  is  my  wish  to 
render  this  the  most  attractive  spot  to  all  learned  foreign- 
ers in  Paris.  I  wish  to  draw  them  here  to  see  and  ad- 
mire a  people  in  their  love  of  science  and  the  arts.  The 
museum  of  natural  history  shall  be  what  those  of  sculp- 
ture and  painting,  and  of  ancient  monuments,  will  be. 
Paris  should  be  the  first  city  of  the  world.  If  God  grant 
me  a  life  long  enough,  I  would  have  her  become  the 
capital  of  the  universe,  in  science  as  well  as  power.  Our 
painters  are  already  the  first,  the  best  in  Europe.  Ex- 
cepting Canova  and  Appiani,  Italy  herself  cannot  boast  tal- 
ents equal  to  ours  in  painting  and  sculpture.  Their  poets 
also  are  inferior  to  ours.  Cesarotti  and  Alfieri  cannot 
dispute  the  palm  with  our  young  writers.  In  short,* 
added  he,  (<  I  am  proud  of  my  country,  and  I  would  have 
her  always  mindful  of  what  she  is  and  may  be." 

We  visited  the  Cabinet  of  Natural  History.  The  First 
Consul,  remarking  on  the  length  of  a  serpent  from  the 
island  of  Java,  was  reminded  of  those  of  Egypt,  and  con- 
sequently was  led  to  speak  of  the  Psylli.  He  joked  much 
about  Denon,  who  was  bent  on  knowing  the  flavor  of  these 
creatures  (not  the  Psylli,  but  the  serpents),  and  Junot 
declared  that  the  first  he  ate,  on  his  initiation,  seized  his 
chin,  and  would  not  let  it  go,  twisting  itself  five  or  six 
times  round  his  chin,  which  in  truth  was  immoderately 
long.  Speaking  of  serpents,  the  First  Consul  related  to 
us  a  droll  incident  that  had  occurred  in  his  own  house  at 
Cairo.  Junot  was  there,  and  has  since  repeated  it  to  me 
much  more  at  length. 

One  morning  at  breakfast,  the  Psylli  and  serpents  came 
under  discussion.  The  General-in-Chief  said  he  believed 
only  in  the  serpents.  <(  I  believe  there  are  mountebanks 
in  Egypt, w  added  he,  w  as  well  as  elsewhere.  The  Psylli 
exercise  the  juggling  talents  there,  with  even  more  facil- 
ity than  our  men  with  a  divining  rod  seek  for  water ;  and 
when  a  Psylle  announces  that  he  is  going  to  eat  a  ser- 
pent, I  verily  believe  he  meets  with  more  gapers  than 
another  would  on  the  Pont  Neuf. w 

<(I  assure  you,  General, »  said  Junot,   "that  I  have  seen 


406  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

these  men  perform  inconceivable  feats.  I  have  seen  the 
chief  of  those  creatures  do  incomprehensible  things." 

<(  What !  the  chief  of  the  serpents  ?  *  said  the  General- 
in-Chief. 

<(  No,  General,  the  chief  of  the  Psylli.  You  may  laugh 
at  me,  but,  on  my  honor,  it  would  astound  you  to  see 
his  performances.  * 

<c  I  tell  you  they  are  conjurers,  and  nothing  else.  Hold! 
you  shall  have  proof.  Go  instantly  to  the  chief  of  the 
Psylli, w  said  he  to  a  domestic  interpreter;  (<  send  him 
here,  with  two  of  his  men." 

The  chief  of  the  Psylli  lost  no  time  in  obeying  the 
summons.  As  soon  as  he  arrived  the  General-in-Chief 
told  him,  through  the  medium  of  the  interpreter:  "There 
are  two  serpents  in  this  house;  find  them,  and  thou  shalt 
have  two  sequins  ( twelve  francs )  for  thyself,  and  as 
much  for  thy  followers. " 

The  Psylle  prostrated  himself,  and  asked  for  two  troughs 
filled  with  water.  When  they  were  brought  he  stripped 
himself,  then  filled  his  mouth  with  water,  laid  himself 
flat  on  his  face,  and  began  creeping,  in  imitation  of  the 
reptile  he  was  in  search  of,  and  spouting  the  water 
through  his  closed  teeth  to  mimic  its  hissing.  When  he 
had  in  this  manner  made  the  tour  of  the  ground  floor,  he 
said  to  the  General-in-Chief,  with  a  savage  laugh:  (( Ma- 
fichc,  mafic  he  t*  which  signifies  "There  are  none."  The 
General-in-Chief  echoed  his  laugh,  and  said:  w  Comment 
diable!  can  this  idiot  really  play  the  magician  ? "  And 
he  ordered  the  interpreter  to  give  the  Psylle  to  under- 
stand that  the  serpent  had  been  seen.  (<  Oh !  I  know 
that,"  said  the  Psylle.  (<  I  felt  it  on  entering  the  house." 

<(  There,  now, "  said  the  General-in-Chief,  (<  now  the 
comedy  is  beginning.  Well;  seek  thy  serpent,  and  if 
thou  findest  it  thou  shalt  have  two  additional  sequins. " 
The  Psylle  climbed  with  the  same  maneuvers  a  staircase 
which  led  to  the  upper  story,  where  Bourrienne  lodged, 
pursued  by  a  troop  of  inquisitors  with  the  General-in- 
Chief  at  their  head.  The  corridor  was  lighted  by  a 
loophole  overlooking  the  country,  through  which  the 
unvarying  azure  of  the  beautiful  Egyptian  sky  was  dis- 
tinguishable. The  Psylle  closed  his  eyes  and  shuddered. 
"There  is  your  actor  beginning  his  part,"  said  the  First 
Consul  to  Junot.  The  serpent  detector  then  said  in  a 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  407 

low  voice :  <(  There  he  is !  w  <(  I  shall  be  delighted  to  pay 
him  the  honors  of  hospitality,"  said  the  General-in-Chief; 
<(  but,  my  friend,  I  think  thou  art  mocking  us.  Dost  know 
that  this  animal  has  completely  mystified  us  with  his 
hissing  for  the  last  hour,  making  us  run  about  after  his 
imaginary  serpentship?  M 

The  Psylle,  nowise  discouraged,  still  crept  and  hissed 
about,  till  presently  an  actual  serpent  was  seen  to  inter- 
pose its  long  line  across  the  loophole,  and  was  heard 
answering  with  fraternal  good  will  the  hissing  of  the 
Psylle;  it  was  six  feet  in  length,  and  Junot  has  assured 
me  that  its  eyes  sparkled  through  the  dusky  corridor  like 
a  bright  fire.  It  approached  the  Psylle,  and  was  no 
sooner  within  his  reach  than  he  caught  it,  with  incredi- 
ble address,  in  one  hand,  just  below  the  jawbone,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  oblige  the  mouth  to  open,  when, 
spitting  into  it,  the  effect  was  like  magic;  the  reptile 
appeared  struck  with  instant  death,  and,  during  his 
lethargy,  the  enchanter  extracted  the  venom  from  his 
poison  fangs. 

(<  Well,  my  General,  what  say  you  to  this  adventure?* 
asked  Junot  of  the  General-in-Chief. 

<(  What  would  you  have  me  say  to  the  result  of  chance? 
Your  Psylle  is  a  lucky  impostor,  that  is  all.* 


CHAPTER   LVII. 

Study  of  New  Men  —  My  Dinners  —  Advice  of  the  First  Consul,  and 
Changes  in  Society  —  The  Days  of  the  Consuls  — The  Household  of 
Cambaceres — Messieurs  d'Aigrefeuille  and  Monvel  —  A  Dinner  at 
the  House  of  Cambaceres  —  The  Solicitors  at  the  House  of  the 
Second  Consul  — The  Court  of  the  Second  Consul,  and  Promenade 
at  the  Palais  Royal  —  Mademoiselle  de  Montferrier  and  Monsieur 
Bastarreche —  Beauty  and  the  Beast  —  Bon-mot  of  Bonaparte  —  M. 
de  Souza  and  His  Wig  —  General  Mortier  and  His  Family  —  The 
Two  Brothers  of  Berthier  —  Services  of  Mortier  — His  Retirement. 

FOR  some  months  after  my  marriage   not  a  day  passed 
that  Junot  did  not    introduce    to  me    several   of   his 
friends,   and    a    multitude    of    acquaintances.      I  was 
accustomed  to  see  much  company   at  my  mother's.      Her 


408  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

circle  was  a  wide  one,  but  it  sank  into  insignificance 
compared  with  ours.  This  perpetual  distraction  was  at 
first  extremely  fatiguing,  and  my  mother,  who  came 
to  install  me  in  my  new  dignity  of  mistress  of  my 
house,  giving  me  credit  for  the  manner  in  which  I  ac- 
quitted myself  of  my  arduous  functions,  added  that,  for 
her  part,  as  a  spectator  only,  one  of  these  soirees  more 
than  satisfied  her,  and  had  its  arrangement  fallen  on  her 
it  would  have  cost  her  a  week's  illness. 

For  some  time  I  was  of  her  opinion,  but  before  a  month 
had  elapsed  I  was  sensible  of  a  growing  inclination  for 
company,  and  in  a  short  time,  aided  by  a  disposition  to 
view  all  things  on  the  brightest  side,  and  a  lively  inter- 
est in  seeking  out,  and  associating  with  a  visible  form, 
all  circumstances  relating  to  the  life  and  character  of 
men  whose  names  had  long  struck  my  ears  in  society, 
and  my  eyes  in  the  journals,  I  began  to  feel  real  pleas- 
ure in  my  new  situation.  Junot,  to  whom  I  imparted  my 
change  of  sentiment,  sincerely  congratulated  me  upon  it, 
and  promised  to  assist  me  whenever  my  researches  should 
require  his  aid. 

There  were  at  that  time  few  open  houses  at  Paris,  the 
privilege  being  confined  to  the  ministers  and  authorities; 
and  even  they  received  only  large  and  formal  parties.  I 
was  anxious  to  effect  a  reformation  in  this  respect,  and 
once  expressed  my  wish  to  the  First  Consul,  when  he 
was  mentioning  his  own  desire  to  see  a  more  free  com- 
munication between  the  society  of  Paris  and  the  members 
of  the  Government. 

<(  Accomplish  that,  and  you  will  be  a  charming  little 
woman, w  said  General  Bonaparte.  <(  If  you  make  the 
attempt  you  will  succeed,  for  you  know  what  it  is  to 
hold  a  drawing-room.  Let  Citizen  Cambace'res  see  that 
for  this  purpose  it  is  not  sufficient  merely  to  give  a 
dinner.  * 

The  Consul  Cambaceres  received  company  every  Tues- 
day and  Saturday,  and  for  the  first  six  months  of  the 
year  ix.  no  other  house  could  stand  a  comparison  with 
the  Hotel  Cambaceres;  it  was  soon,  however,  not  only 
imitated,  but  excelled.  The  principal  members  of  his 
household  were  Messieurs  de  Lavolle"e  and  Monvel,  secre- 
taries, and  Messieurs  de  Chateauneuf  and  D'Aigrefeuille, 
who  had  no  appointed  functions,  but  voluntarily  acted  as 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  409 

chamberlains,  and  the  moment  a  lady  was  announced  one 
of  these  gentlemen  went  to  the  door  to  receive  and  con- 
duct her  to  a  chair. 

I  had  a  great  friendship  for  Cambace'res,  which  neither 
absence  nor  distance  ever  impaired ;  yet  I  must  acknowl- 
edge that,  notwithstanding  the  host's  peculiar  elegance 
and  superior  powers  of  pleasing,  and  notwithstanding 
even  that  friendly  welcome  and  perfect  politeness  which, 
under  the  influence  of  the  master's  example,  extended 
itself  to  the  very  lowest  domestic  of  the  household,  no 
sooner  had  you  passed  the  gate  of  the  Hotel  Cambace'res 
than  the  very  air  seemed  impregnated  with  ennui,  sleep 
took  possession  of  the  eyelids,  and  a  sort  of  lethargy 
suspended  every  faculty  as  completely  as  in  the  temple 
of  Morpheus. 

The  dinner  party  never  exceeded  five  and  twenty,  and 
of  these  the  proportion  of  ladies  was  small;  there  were 
never,  indeed,  more  than  two  of  such  considerations, 
from  the  offices  of  their  husbands,  as  that  their  preten- 
sions to  precedence  might  have  occasioned  jealousies. 
There  was  an  excellent  cook;  and  the  carving  fell  to  the 
department  of  the  maltre  d'liotel,  Cambace'res  himself 
never  doing  the  honors,  except  of  a  dish  of  rare  game. 

This  was  a  great  innovation  in  the  etiquette  of  French 
society,  but  I  found  it  agreeable;  I  cannot,  however,  say 
as  much  for  his  custom  of  entertaining  the  guests  nearest 
to  him  with  an  enumeration  of  all  his  maladies  of  the 
day,  assuring  us  he  was  too  ill  to  eat,  yet  always  con- 
cluding by  making  an  excellent  meal.  He  had  great  con- 
versational powers,  and  his  narratives  acquired  novelty  and 
grace  from  the  turn  of  his  language.  His  evening  drawing- 
room  was  crowded  with  judges,  registrars,  and  other 
officers  of  all  the  courts  in  France,  who  seemed  already 
to  anticipate  the  future  Archchancellor;  he  bore,  indeed, 
even  at  that  period,  the  character  of  the  ablest  civilian 
in  the  country. 

The  Third  Consul,  too,  had  already  entered  upon  his 
future  department,  the  Financial  and  Administrative;  and 
he  also  had  his  two  evenings  appropriated  weekly.  How 
many  original  figures  have  passed  before  my  eyes  in 
these  two  houses!  How  often,  when  my  eager  scrutiny 
has  been  awakened  by  the  announcement  of  a  name 
which  had  figured  conspicuously  in  the  Revolution,  have 


4io  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

I  been  disappointed  by  an  insignificant  or  repulsive  ex- 
terior! how  often,  seated  beside  such  a  one  the  whole 
dinner  time,  which  with  Cambace'res  was  never  short,  I 
have  been  stupefied  by  the  utter  nullity  of  his  ideas! 
but  on  communicating  my  feelings  to  Cambace'res,  he 
would  answer,  (<  This  man's  reputation  was  the  result  of 
chance;  opportunity  fell  in  his  way,  and  instinctively  he 
seized  it  by  the  forelock. " 

The  conduct  of  Cambaceres  during  the  Revolution  has 
been  much  talked  of,  and  I  do  not  pretend  to  excuse  it. 
I  hate  the  sanguinary  years  with  which  his  name  is  con- 
nected, and  everything  that  recalls  them ;  but,  difficult  as 
the  task  may  be,  I  would  fain  see  him  exempted  from 
the  censures  which  attach  to  the  men  of  that  period. 
Napoleon  did  not  approve  of  the  events  of  1793,  but  he 
excused  the  famous  vote  of  Cambaceres  by  the  reflection 
that  the  thing  once  done  —  that  is  to  say,  the  King  once 
condemned  —  the  interests  of  France,  and  especially  of 
Paris,  demanded  the  immediate  consummation  of  that 
terrible  drama. 

He  disapproved  of  the  sentence,  which  he  character- 
ized as  a  resolution  unjustly  adopted  toward  a  man  who 
was  guilty  only  of  the  crimes  of  others;  and  I  never 
heard  him  pronounce  the  name  of  Louis  XVI.  without 
the  additional  epithet  of  <(  THE  UNFORTUNATE  KING.**  I 
record  his  opinion  here,  because  I  conceive  that  on  a 
matter  so  momentous,  and  which  so  nearly  concerns  his 
own  destiny  —  since  it  still  influences  that  of  France  —  it 
must  be  of  the  highest  interest  to  us. 

Cambace'res  was  originally  Councilor  in  the  Court  of 
Finances  of  Languedoc.  When  the  Comte  de  Perigord 
presided  over  the  states  of  that  province,  of  which  he 
was  commandant  in  1786,  Cambaceres  was  in  misfortune. 
M.  de  Perigord,  always  benevolent  and  ready  to  assist 
the  needy,  asked  and  obtained  for  the  almost  indigent 
Councilor  a  pension  of  two  hundred  francs,  and  for  his 
father  one  of  two  thousand  francs,  out  of  the  royal 
lotteries. 

The  courtesy  of  Cambace'res  was  general,  but  his 
countrymen  from  Languedoc  he  welcomed  with  a  pecul- 
iar urbanity,  the  more  invaluable  that  it  had  none  of 
the  varnish  of  fashionable  politeness.  Many  Languedo- 
cians  went  direct  to  the  Hotel  de  Cambaceres  on  alight- 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANT&S  411 

ing  from  the  diligences;  he  received  them  with  kindness, 
examined  their  petitions,  and  if  he  could  not  assist  them, 
unhesitatingly  told  them  the  truth,  pointing  out  at  the 
same  time  how  they  might  obtain  other  advantages,  and 
never  failed  to  forward  their  interests.  I  may  be  allowed 
to  call  Cambace'res  an  honest  man;  for,  looking  around 
on  all  his  equals  in  power,  I  have  never  found  one  of 
such  absolute  good  faith  and  probity,  to  which  many 
others  can  testify. 

His  figure  was  extraordinarily  ugly,  as  well  as  unique. 
The  slow  and  regular  step,  the  measured  cadence  of  ac- 
cent, the  very  look,  which  took  three  times  as  long  as 
another's  to  arrive  at  its  object — all  was  in  admirable 
keeping  with  the  long  person,  long  nose,  long  chin,  and 
the  yellow  skin,  which  betrayed  not  the  smallest  symp- 
toms that  any  matter  inclining  to  sanguine  circulated 
beneath  its  cellular  texture. 

The  same  consistency,  though  probably  unstudied,  per- 
vaded his  dress;  and  when  demurely  promenading  the 
galleries  of  the  Palais  Royal,  then  the  Palais  Egalite",  the 
singular  cut  and  color  of  his  embroidered  coat;  his  ruffles, 
at  that  time  so  uncommon;  his  short  breeches,  silk  stock- 
ings, shoes  polished  with  English  blacking,  and  fastened 
with  gold  buckles;  his  old-fashioned  wig  and  queue;  and 
his  well-appointed  and  well-placed  three-cornered  hat, 
produced  altogether  a  most  fantastic  effect. 

Even  the  members  of  his  household,  by  their  peculiari- 
ties of  dress,  served  as  accessories  to  the  picture. 

He  went  every  evening  to  the  theater,  and  seldom 
failed  to  make  his  appearance  afterward  with  his  suite, 
all  in  full  costume,  either  in  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries 
or  of  the  Palais  Egalite",  where  everything  around 
exhibited  the  most  ludicrous  disparity  with  this 
strange  group,  whose  solemn  deportment  and  delib- 
erate and  circumspect  discourse  might  serve  to  per- 
sonify the  disciples  of  Plato  following  their  master  to 
Sunium. 

The  First  Consul  was  sometimes  annoyed  that  the  ridi- 
cule attached  to  his  colleague  appeared  to  recoil  upon 
him,  and  I  remember  once  seeing  him  enraged  as  he 
listened  to  the  translation  of  a  passage  from  the  English 
journals.  The  Second  Consul  was  caricatured,  and  from 
the  Second  to  the  First  the  transition  is  so  easy  that  the 


412  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

journalist  made  no  scruple  of  it.  The  First  Consul 
stamped  his  foot,  and  said  to  Josephine: 

<(  You  must  interfere  in  this  matter  —  do  you  hear?  It 
is  only  a  woman  that  can  tell  a  man  he  is  ridiculous;  if 
1  meddle  I  shall  tell  him  he  is  mad." 

I  know  not  whether  Madame  Bonaparte  achieved  her 
commission  to  the  Consul  Cambaceres;  but  this  I  know, 
that  although  always  highly  distinguished  for  his  knowl- 
edge, his  politeness,  and  his  dinners,  he  yet  always  re- 
mained that  which  had  so  highly  discomposed  the  First 
Consul. 

Cambaceres  had  a  charming  grandniece,  the  daughter 
of  his  nephew,  M.  Duvidal  de  Montferrier.  I  have 
always  wondered  that  he  did  not  place  her  at  the  head 
of  his  establishment;  but  perhaps  he  was  terrified  by  the 
aspect  of  her  companion,  whom  it  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  exclude,  for  he  was  the  husband,  and  the  most 
jealous  upon  earth!  Among  the  events  of  life,  there  are 
always  some  much  more  difficult  to  comprehend  than 
others.  Of  this  class  was  the  marriage  of  Mademoiselle 
Rose  de  Montferrier  with  M.  Bastarreche,  a  banker  of 
Bayonne,  afterward  established  at  Paris  in  partnership 
with  M.  Jubie,  the  possessor  of  an  immense  fortune,  but 
the  most  frightful  of  monsters. 

It  would  be  impossible  faithfully  to  portray  Made- 
moiselle Rose  de  Montferrier  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  be- 
cause, with  eyes  and  profile  of  corresponding  beauty,  her 
principal  charms  consisted  of  a  nymphlike  figure,  and  a 
complexion  of  which  no  comparison  can  give  an  idea.  It 
was  superior  even  to  Madame  Murat's;  it  breathed  an 
animation,  a  warmth  of  coloring  which,  without  meta- 
phor, reminded  one  of  the  flower  whose  name  she  bore, 
and  with  the  delicacy  of  its  tints  was  combined  the  velvet 
of  the  peach. 

Considering  the  high  position  of  Cambace'res,  it  was 
naturally  expected  that  Mademoiselle  de  Montferrier 
would  make  a  brilliant  match.  But  long  afterward,  even 
after  the  death  of  M.  de  Bastarreche,  Napoleon  could 
not  forgive  Cambaceres  for  consenting  to  it:  (<  It  is  the 
Beauty  and  the  Beast  realized, w  said  he.  All  Paris  heard 
with  surprise  that  the  young  lady  showed  no  repugnance; 
and  with  this  news  circulated  magnificent  details  of  the 
splendid  equipages  and  wedding  dresses;  nothing  was 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  413 

talked  of  but   diamonds,   pearls,  and   jewels  innumerable 
given    by   AZOR.*     "An!"   said  the    First    Consul,   "IHK 

PRESENT    MAKES    US    FORGET    THE    FUTURE." 

Before  quitting  the  Consul  Cambaceres,  I  must  relate 
an  adventure  which  happened  about  this  time.  A 
Portuguese,  named  Don  Alexander  de  Souza,  had  just 
arrived  in  Paris,  on  his  road  to  (or  from)  an  embassy 
at  Rome. 

M.  de  Souza  was  a  very  little  man,  about  four  feet  ten 
or  eleven  inches  high,  and  the  whole  of  his  delicate  per- 
son cast  in  a  most  diminutive  mold:  he  was  not  only 
thin,  but  absolutely  shriveled;  yet  he  had  the  air  of  a 
gentleman,  and  his  manners  were  those  of  a  person  of 
quality.  The  authorities  received  him  with  something 
more  than  the  cordiality  due  to  the  friend  of  our  enemies, 
and  M.  de  Souza  had  nothing  to  complain  of  on  his 
passage  through  Paris.  The  Second  Consul  would  not 
let  slip  such  an  opportunity  to  give  a  sumptuous  dinner. 
All  the  authorities  were  invited,  and  many  of  his  friends; 
Junot  and  I  were  of  the  number,  as  were  Duroc,  Lannes, 
and  Mortier,  now  Duke  of  Treviso,  and  then  Commandant 
of  the  First  Military  Division. 

I  have  not  before  mentioned  this  excellent  man  or  his 
wife,  all  goodness,  simplicity,  and  gentleness.  He  was 
Junot's  superior  as  Commandant  of  the  Division,  while 
Junot  was  only  Commandant  of  Paris;  but  we  lived  on 
the  best  and  most  friendly  terms;  for  General  Mortier 
was,  and  still  is,  the  best  and  most  worthy  of  men;  but 
at  this  period  he  would  laugh  like  a  child,  and  his  mirth 
sometimes  compromised  the  dignity  of  the  General  Com- 
mandant's epaulettes,  f 

M.  de  Souza,  on  occasion  of    this  dinner,  wore  a  mag- 
nificent coat  of  Segovian  cloth,  embroidered  in  gold  with 
a  perfection  we  cannot  attain  in  France.      A  frill  of   rim- 
cambric  rose  almost  imperceptibly  at  the  top  of  his  well 
buttoned  coat,   in  the  English  fashion,   and  his   head  dis- 

*  «Za  Belle  et  la  Bite,  ou  Azor  et  /.e nitre,  »  an  oj>era  then  i:i 
vogue. 

f  General,  afterward  Marshal,  Mortier  was  killed  on  the  a3th  of 
July,  1835,  while  riding  by  the  side  of  Louis  Philippe  on  the  Boulevard 
du  Temple  opposite  the  Jardin  Turc,  by  the  explosion  of  the  infernal 
machine  invented  and  fired  by  Fieschi,  with  the  intention  of  killing 
the  King  and  his  two  sons. 


4H  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

played  a  peruke  a  la  Pitt,  more  fully  to  exemplify  that 
Portugal  was  not  only  the  very  humble  servant  of 
England,  but  equally  the  submissive  slave  of  her  minister. 

M.  de  Souza  was  seated  at  the  table  between  me  and 
Madame  Jolivet,  wife  of  a  Councilor  of  State.  All  the 
civilities  lavished  on  the  foreign  traveler  failed  to  banish 
the  ennui  with  which  this  republican  land  seemed  to  in- 
spire him.  I  was  obliged  to  stifle  my  yawns  in  answer- 
ing some  trifling  questions,  and  had  little  hope  of  a 
gayer  termination  of  the  repast,  when  an  incident, 
certainly  not  included  in  the  instructions  of  Cambaceres 
to  his  maitres  d'h&tel,  gave  a  new  turn  to  the  aspect  of 
affairs. 

Cambaceres  had  for  some  time  placed  his  household  on 
a  very  respectable  footing:  his  domestics  had  all  the 
superb  livery  of  the  Consuls,  and  the  maitres  d'hdtel  had 
exchanged  their  black  dresses  for  maroon  cloth,  with 
wrought  gold  buttons.  There  were  always  two  courses 
at  the  Second  Consul's,  and  as  each  course  consisted  of 
eighteen  or  twenty  removes,  it  may  be  supposed  the  arm 
of  the  maitre  d' hotel  intruded  pretty  frequently  between 
each  of  the  guests;  but  poor  little  Souza's  stature  pre- 
sented no  obstacle;  the  dishes  passed  over  his  head;  and 
on  one  of  these  occasions  one  of  the  purveyor's  gold 
buttons,  being  loose,  hitched  in  the  little  gentleman's  wig 
and  carried  it  off. 

The  catastrophe  was  sudden,  and  no  one  knew  how  it  had 
happened ;  even  the  maitre  d' hotel  himself  had  moved  some 
distance  before  he  discovered  his  involuntary  theft;  mean- 
while the  bewildered  eyes  of  M.  de  Souza  were  seeking 
his  wig  in  the  direction  of  the  ceiling,  as  if  he  imagined 
it  had  really  taken  wings,  and  those  of  the  thirty  persons 
around  him,  fixed  on  his  startled  figure,  caused  him  an 
embarrassment  which  completed  the  burlesque  of  his  ap- 
pearance. 

Yet  we  should  all  have  behaved  decently  had  he  taken 
the  accident  in  good  part;  but,  wishing  to  be  dignified 
under  his  misfortune,  he  thought,  perhaps,  to  impress  us 
vastly  by  saying,  with  the  utmost  seriousness,  to  the  maitre 
d' hotel,  who  came  in  all  haste  to  apologize: 

<(  Sir,  will  you  restore  me  my  wig  ?w  And  he  set  to  work 
to  replace  it;  but  the  discomposure  which  was  evident 
through  all  his  studied  calmness  prevented  his  accurately 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTfeS  415 

distinguishing  the  position  of  the  tuft  a  la  Pitt,  and  the  wig, 
to  my  inexpressible  satisfaction,  was  put  on  all  askew,  BO 
that  the  tuft  just  surmounted  the  right  ear,  till  Madame 
Jolivet,  in  a  tone  of  more  than  usual  acerbity  (for  she 
was  offended  at  the  incivility  of  her  neighbor,  who  had 
not  addressed  a  word  to  her  since  he  had  conducted  her 
to  her  seat),  said  to  him,  "Sir,  your  wig  is  awry;"  and 
as  she  spoke  she  obligingly  raised  her  hand  to  the  head 
of  the  little  gentleman,  who  bounded  away  from  her 
friendly  assistance  with  a  vivacity  that  had  nearly  dashed 
me  to  the  ground. 

I  had  avoided  looking  at  either  my  husband  or  General 
Mortier,  certain  that  my  suppressed  laughter  must  have 
burst  forth;  it  became,  however,  at  length  uncontrollable, 
and  appeared  equally  to  master  the  whole  company;  for 
no  sooner  had  mine  exploded  than  a  mad  and  inextin- 
guishable peal  resounded  from  every  side;  but  General 
Mortier's  was  loudest,  and  so  violent  as  to  oblige  him 
eventually  to  rise  from  table.  The  polite  host,  on  whose 
imperfect  vision  this  byplay  was  lost,  no  sooner  under- 
stood the  matter  than  he  exhausted  himself  in  apologies 
to  M.  de  Souza,  who,  while  panting  with  rage,  replied, 
bowing,  that  it  was  of  no  consequence;  and  the  unfor- 
tunate wig,  in  spite  of  Madame  Jolivet's  officious  care, 
remained  awry.  General  Mortier,  I  am  sure,  will  to  this 
day  remember  that  dinner  and  the  hearty  laugh  it  af- 
forded him. 

Having  mentioned  Mortier,  I  must  complete  the  por- 
trait of  a  friend.  General  Edward  Mortier,  at  the  time 
I  knew  him,  in  1800,  was  of  about  the  same  age  as  most 
of  the  general  officers  of  the  army;  and  this  similarity 
of  years  is  not  surprising,  for  the  youth  of  France,  in- 
flamed with  the  love  of  their  country  and  the  desire  of 
defending  her,  simultaneously  deserted  their  firesides  to 
enter  the  service. 

These  young  men  left  their  cherished  families  and 
brilliant  fortunes,  that  offered  them  all  the  enjoyments 
of  luxury,  for  hard  couches  and  munition  bread,  which 
they  were  seen  carrying  on  the  bayonet,  gayly  singing 
the  Marseillaise.  But  of  all  this  bright  and  valorous 
troop  not  a  single  young  man  was  seen  running  about 
Paris  exciting  the  people  to  revolt,  shouting  at  the  clubs, 
breaking  the  lamps,  committing,  in  short,  the  acts  of 


416  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

men  at  once  divested  of  reason  and  disaffected  to  public 
order. 

General  Mortier  lodged  in  a  large  Hotel  in  the  Rue 
des  Capucines,  with  his  wife,  his  sister-in-law,  and  a 
young  family.  In  the  same  house  were  Madame  Cesar 
Berthier  (whose  husband  was  under  the  command  of 
General  Mortier),  General  Menard,  and  another.  General 
Mortier  had  married  a  young  and  charming  wife,  who 
inspired  me  at  first  sight  with  friendship. 

Without  being  extremely  pretty,  or  in  any  other  way 
personally  remarkable,  she  pleased  by  an  expression  of 
mildness,  and  a  general  gracefulness  which  prepossessed  at 
the  first  glance.  A  good  mother,  and  fond  of  her  home, 
from  which  it  was  difficult  to  entice  her,  her  thoughts 
were  chiefly  devoted  to  the  domestic  happiness  of  her 
husband  and  family.  She  had  an  agreeable  sister,  per- 
haps even  prettier  than  Madame  Mortier,  but  less  pleas- 
ing, as  she  had  more  formality  and  self-love. 

In  this  house  we  seemed,  from  the  moment  of  entering, 
to  breathe  peace  and  happiness.  I  felt  myself  cheerful 
as  soon  as  I  set  my  foot  upon  the  staircase;  but  these 
sensations  would  all  have  vanished  had  I  but  mistaken 
the  door  and  entered  the  ground  floor,  where  a  clam- 
or prevailed  that  might  have  typified  the  infernal  re- 
gions. 

General  Cesar  Berthier,  brother  of  the  Minister  of  War, 
might  be  a  very  good  soldier:  I  am  no  judge  of  such 
matters.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  he  had  a  very  genteel 
and  agreeable  wife,  whom  he  made  miserable  with  so 
little  reserve  that  I  speak  of  it  no  more  openly  than  he 
himself  did  in  my  presence,  whom  he  scarcely  knew. 
Madame  Cesar  Berthier  was  sister  of  Madame  Leopold 
Berthier;  but  the  manners  of  the  two  brothers  widely 
differed.  Leopold,  with  more  amenity  of  language  and 
more  disposition  to  please  than  Cesar,  does  not  appear  to 
have  had  much  power  over  the  heart  of  his  wife,  for  she 
divorced  him  to  marry  General  Lasalle,  the  most  amusing 
and  bravest  of  profligate  hussars.  Leopold  had  wit,  a 
qualification  very  scarce  with  Cesar;  and  his  stammer  and 
bluntness  of  language  spoiled  the  little  he  had.  Both 
ladies  were  natives  of  Versailles;  their  maiden  name  was 
d'Aiguillon,  but  they  were  no  way  related  to  the  ducal 
house  of  that  name. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  417 

Madame  Ce"sar,  when  young,  must  have  been  very  en- 
gaging, for  she  was  well  shaped,  had  a  little  turn-up 
nose,  fair  hair,  and  arms  of  remarkable  beauty.  At  the 
time  I  knew  her  she  was  beginning  to  be  marked  with 
an  eruption,  but  she  was  still  young,  and  on  the  whole 
a  pretty  and  elegant  woman,  fond  of  the  toilet,  and  suc- 
cessful in  its  disposition.  Her  daughter,  Madame  Bruyere, 
is  a  charming  woman. 

My  esteem  for  General  Mortier  was  first  inspired  by 
my  husband,  who  had  much  regard  for  him,  and  held 
both  his  civil  character  and  military  talents  in  high 
respect.* 

Probity  and  honor  were  among  his  conspicuous 
virtues.  Junot,  who  was  restive  under  authority,  and 
knew  how  to  obey  only  one  man,  was  sometimes  at  issue 
with  his  superior,  which  always  grieved  him.  I  have 
often  seen  him,  after  writing  a  letter,  repent,  and  im- 
mediately disavow  it;  and  constantly  on  such  occasions 
have  I  been  witness  of  General  Mortier's  kindness  of 
character. 

Though  young,  he  had  the  advantage  of  Junot  in  years, 
and  slight  as  was  the  difference,  it  justified  him  in  offer- 
ing some  fraternal  and  jesting  remonstrances  to  his 
junior,  and  sparing  him  many  an  unpleasant  collision 
with  the  First  Consul,  provoked  by  his  hot-headedness, 
which  would  certainly  have  been  magnified  by  such  men 
as  Bourrienne,  Fouche",  and  some  others,  who,  by  their 
situation  about  the  First  Consul,  had  access  to  his  ear 
to  prejudice  those  who  enjoyed  his  favor.  General  Mor- 
tier's post  gave  him  ample  means  of  mischief,  but  he 
never  injured  a  single  individual. 

Mortier  was  distinguished  from  the  moment  of  his  en- 
trance into  the  service.  He  first  joined  the  Army  of  the 
North,  then  that  of  the  Rhine;  and  afterward,  in  our 
day  of  misfortune,  he  valiantly  seconded  Masse"na  in  the 
defeat  of  the  Austro- Russian  army.  In  the  Moretta-Thal, 
near  Schwitz,  he  had  a  remarkable  'ei/^agement,  in  which 
he  repulsed  General  Rosenberg,  just  arrived  from  Italy 
with  Russian  troops  to  fall  upon  us;  an  action  which 

*  The  military  reputation  of  General  Mortier  has  no  need  of  my  pen 
to  illustrate  it  in  its  brilliancy ;  but  I  would  fain  instance  his  integrity  in 
Hanover,  which  glorious  era  and  many  other  achievements  of  his  life 
are  attested  by  the  eloquent  lines  of  M.  Bignon. 
27 


4i 8  MEMOIRS    OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

had  a  direct  influence  on  our  fate,  and  France  ought  to 
bear  sincere  gratitude  toward  all  who  belonged  to  this 
Army  of  the  Danube. 

His  conquest  of  the  Electorate  of  Hanover,  with  an 
army  inferior  in  number  by  more  than  two-thirds  to  that 
of  the  enemy;  in  short,  the  convention  of  Suhlingen  con- 
stitutes an  honorable  monument,  which  Marshal  Mortier 
raised  at  once  to  the  glory  of  his  country  and  to  his 
own.  Again,  he  was  in  a  most  perilous  situation  at 
Diernstein,*  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube,  with  only  five 
thousand  men  of  the  Gazan  division.  Encountered  by 
the  Russian  vanguard  under  the  command  of  Prince 
Bagration,  twenty-five  thousand  strong,  he  not  only  re- 
sisted, but  forced  his  passage,  and  rejoined  the  main 
army  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 

At  the  head  of  the  Eighth  Corps  in  the  next  campaign, 
1806,  he  attacked  the  Elector  of  Hesse  Cassel,  and  in 
one  day  the  whole  of  Westphalia  fell  into  our  hands, 
with  the  treasure,  provisions,  and  military  stores  of  the 
enemy.  Mortier  might  have  been  enriched  by  more  than 
glory  in  this  action;  but  he  left  to  his  country  the 
charge  of  providing  him  with  a  recompense.  Some 
weeks  afterward  he  took  possession  in  the  name  of 
France  of  the  Electorate  of  Hanover,  which  his  sword 
had  conquered  two  years  previously.  Here,  though  as 
Marshal  Commanding-in-Chief,  and  as  it  were  thrice- 
puissant  Proconsul,  he  might  have  exercised  his  power 
as  he  would  —  ask  the  inhabitants  !  They  will  tell 
you,  even  to  this  day,  that  Mortier's  conduct  was  that  of 
an  honest  soldier. 

Next  came  the  day  of  Friedland,  to  which  he  valiantly 
contributed.  Then  he  went  to  take  a  command  in  the 
Peninsula.  The  victory  of  Ocana,  in  destroying  the 
strongest  of  the  insurgent  armies,  composed  of  fifty 
thousand  men,  while  the  French  were  but  twenty-five 
thousand,  was  of  immense  importance  to  the  interest  of 
France,  for  it  decided  the  invasion  of  Andalusia.  Having 
penetrated  the  Sierra  Morena,  he  did  not  entangle  himself 
in  its  defiles,  but,  leaving  that  task  to  Marshal  Victor,  he 
traversed  Spanish  Estremadura,  laid  siege  to  Badajos, 
carried  it  at  the  end  of  fifty-four  days,  and  made  seven 
thousand  prisoners. 

*In  1805. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTfcS  419 

Returning  from  thence  to  Russia  at  the  head  of  the 
Young  Guard,  he  gave  new  proofs  of  devotion  to  his 
country  and  its  Chief.  Then  came  the  campaign  of  1813. 
Still  in  command  of  the  Young  Guard,  Mortier's  conduct 
was,  like  the  past,  faithful  and  brave.  Lutzen,  Koenig- 
swartha,  Bautzen,  Hochkirch,  Wurtschen,  and  Reichen- 
bach,  saw  his  efforts,  sometimes  unsuccessful,  but  never 
useless. 

In  the  battle  of  Dresden,  again,  he  deserved  praise. 
He  defended,  step  by  step,  the  soil  of  his  country. 
Overcome  by  the  Prince  of  Sweden  and  General  Bulow, 
he  fought  not  the  less  bravely  at  Craonne,  La  Fere, 
Provins,  Nangis,  Meaux,  Lagny,  Saint  Mande\  and  at 
length  at  Paris. 

In  retiring  to  his  estate  at  Plessis  Lalande,  Marshal 
Mortier  has  had  leisure  to  meditate  on  the  progressive 
misfortunes  of  his  country,  that  country  which  he  had 
served  so  gloriously.  I  have  experienced  a  moment's 
happiness  in  retracing  so  illustrious  a  life.  It  has  not 
many  parallels. 


CHAPTER    LVIII. 

The  Quintidi  and  the  Parade  at  the  Tuileries  —  The  Young  Man  with 
the  Petition  —  The  First  Consul  and  the  Young  Man  —  The  Governor 
of  the  Bastile  and  the  Pension  —  M.  De  Latude,  and  Forty  Years  in 
a  Dungeon  —  M.  de  Sartine  and  Recriminations  —  Vincennes,  the 
Bastile,  and  Bicetre  —  Santerre,  Rossignol  and  Ronsin  —  The  Dyna- 
mometer—  The  Revolutionary  Army  and  the  Infernal  Legions  —  The 
Girl  and  the  Burned  Village  —  General  Charbonnier  and  the  Aid- 
de-Camp  — <( Art  Thou  a  Good  Patriot  ?» — General  Vandamme  and 
his  Saber  Exercise  — The  Village  Ulterieur  —  The  Scheldt  a  Fine 
Road. 

ONE  Quintidi,  *  at  the  moment  that    the    First  Consul 
was  descending  to  hold  the  review  in  the  court  of 
the  Tuileries,  an  event    happened    sufficiently   sin- 
gular   to    attract    attention    and    interest.     In    the   dense 
crowd  that  surrounded  the    line    was    a    young    man    of 
about    fifteen,  dressed    in  a  worn    but    neat    black    coat, 

*  One  of  the  ten  days  of  which  the  w  week  M  consisted  —  in  the  Revo- 
lutionary Calendar. 


420  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME    JUNOT 

which  indicated  that  its  master  was  above  the  hireling 
class.  His  figure  was  interesting;  he  was  pale,  and  his 
neighbors  observed  that  he  trembled  violently,  often  put 
his  hand  to  his  bosom,  and  appeared  impatient  to  see  the 
First  Consul. 

When  the  drums  beat  the  young  man's  emotion  became 
so  powerful  that  his  breast  was  seen  to  swell  with  the 
palpitation  of  his  heart.  The  First  Consul  descended  the 
stairs,  and,  as  he  reached  the  middle  of  the  vestibule, 
the  young  man  threw  himself  before  him  and  presented 
a  paper.  The  last  few  months  had  so  teemed  with  plots 
and  attempts  against  the  life  of  the  First  Consul  that 
twenty  arms,  all  strangers  to  his  suite,  were  instantly 
stretched  forth  to  seize  the  boy,  who,  raising  his  hand 
and  fixing  an  imploring  look  on  the  First  Consul,  still 
held  forward  his  petition. 

(<  Leave  the  young  man  —  I  am  going  to  speak  to  him,  * 
said  the  First  Consul ;  and  advancing  toward  him :  *  What 
do  you  want,  my  boy  ?  M  demanded  he. 

The  young  man  could  not  reply,  but  falling  on  his 
knees,  presented  his  petition.  The  First  Consul  read  it 
with  an  expression  of  countenance  which  struck  all  who 
surrounded  him.  His  eyes  then  rested  with  a  look  of 
deep  commiseration  on  the  still  kneeling  young  man,  to 
whom  he  said: 

(<  Rise,  mon  enfant;  we  kneel  to  God  alone.  Is  your 
mother  still  in  Paris  ? w 

An  almost  stifled  (<  Yes  w  escaped  the  lips  of  the  young 
petitioner. 

<(  Acquaint  her  that  a  pension  of  twelve  hundred  francs 
is  awarded  her,  and  will  commence  six  months  prior  to 
the  present  date.* 

At  the  sound  of  these  words  the  poor  youth  fell  again 
on  his  knees,  raising  toward  the  First  Consul  his  tearful 
eyes  and  trembling  hands,  which  endeavored  to  seize 
his;  but  his  emotion  was  too  violent.  His  extreme  pale- 
ness increased  on  hearing  the  favor  granted  to  his  mother; 
but  it  speedily  gave  place  to  purple.  The  veins  of  his 
forehead  swelled  till  they  were  ready  to  burst,  his  eyes 
closed,  he  fell  insensible  at  the  feet  of  the  First  Consul, 
and  Nature  bringing  her  own  relief,  a  profuse  hemor- 
rhage ensued,  and  the  First  Consul  was  covered  with  the 
poor  boy's  blood. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  421 

w  A  surgeon, w  cried  he  instantly  —  "a  surgeon !  "  But 
joy,  it  is  said,  is  never  fatal;  the  young  man  recovered 
his  senses,  and  bursting  into  tears,  seized  almost  forcibly 
the  hand  of  the  First  Consul,  and  kissed  it  with  trans- 
port. 

w  You  are  a  Providence  to  my  family ! w  exclaimed  the 
youth ;  <(  I  will  pray  for  you  every  day  of  my  life. " 

The  First  Consul  smiled  as  he  pressed  the  young  hand, 
and  pursued  his  way  to  the  review ;  but  before  he  mounted 
his  horse  he  recommended  the  boy  to  Junot,  and  to  the 
Minister  of  War,  and  then  gave  him  a  friendly  salute, 
saying : 

(<  If  you  wish  to  enter  the  service,  apply  to  the  General 
Commanding  the  City  of  Paris:  he  will  mention  it  to  the 
Minister  of  War,  and  we  will  seek  to  do  something  for 
you. " 

The  young  man  answered  only  with  a  low  bow,  and 
followed  the  First  Consul  to  the  steps  of  the  portico.  He 
saw  the  beautiful  DJsirt  brought;  the  General,  leaping 
lightly  to  his  saddle,  galloped  off,  and  was  soon  amid 
the  thronged  ranks  of  his  soldiers,  followed  by  a  numer- 
ous and  brilliant  suite,  who  surrounded  him  as  the  satel- 
lites of  a  planet  constantly  revolve  around  their  center; 
he  saw  those  grenadiers,  still  black  with  the  powder  of 
Marengo,  with  their  high  leather  caps  overshadowing 
their  faces;  that  fine  regiment  of  cfiasscurs,  then  com- 
manded by  Eugene  Beauharnais;  those  gilded  uniforms, 
those  horses,  that  military  music;  and  last  of  all  the 
magician,  who  fascinated  with  his  look  of  fire  all  who 
approached  the  sphere  of  his  influence.  .  .  .  The 
young  man  cried:  (<  Yes,  I  will  serve!  I  will  be  a  sol- 
dier, that  a  ray  of  that  glory  may  fall  on  me." 

This  young  man,  so  unfortxmate  and  so  grateful,  was 
the  son  of  Monsieur  Delaunay,  Governor  of  the  Bastile, 
massacred  the  i4th  of  July,  1789. 

Junot  said  to  me  one  day:  WI  must  bring  you  into 
conversation  with  a  man  of  whom  you  have  certainly 
heard,  and  whose  Memoirs,  you  have,  of  course,  read;  M. 
de  Latude  —  do  you  know  him  ? »  "Ah!"  I  exclaimed; 
<(  M.  de  Latude,  and  you  ask  whether  I  know  him  ?  I  do 
not  know  him  personally,  but  I  am  well  acquainted  with 
his  misfortunes,  which  have  so  deeply  interested  me, 
that  I  should  be  delighted  to  see  himself."  Two  days 


422  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME  JUNOT 

afterward  Junot  told  me:  (<  This  morning-  M.  de  Latude 
will  breakfast  with  us;  he  will  bring  Madame  Lemoine, 
for  he  no  more  moves  without  her  than  without  his 
ladder." 

It  was  well  known  that  M.  de  Latude,  when  young, 
wanting  to  obtain  a  favor  of  Madame  de  Pompadour, 
thought  to  excite  her  gratitude  by  writing  her  a  letter  with 
his  own  signature,  announcing  that  accident  had  just  dis- 
covered to  him  a  plot  for  poisoning  the  Marchioness  by 
means  of  a  box  of  confectionery,  to  be  conveyed  to  her 
that  very  day,  after  which,  mixing  a  harmless  emetic 
with  the  sweetmeats,  he  dispatched  them  anonymously. 
M.  de  Sartine,  the  Lieutenant  General  of  Police,  was  sum- 
moned in  haste,  and  fell  into  great  disgrace  for  having 
suffered  so  heinous  a  plot  to  be  detected  by  a  stranger. 
Returning  enraged  to  his  office,  he  accused  his  first  com- 
missary; he  the  second;  and  so  on,  till  all  their  recrimina- 
tions ended  in  a  full  disclosure  of  M.  de  Latude's  artifice. 

M.  de  Sartine 's  vengeance  was  proportioned,  not  to  the 
offense,  but  to  the  apprehensions  he  had  endured  from 
the  favorite's  displeasure;  and  the  unfortunate  intriguer  was 
thrown  into  a  dungeon  at  Vincennes,  without  any  judi- 
cial form.  At  the  end  of  three  years  he  escaped  by 
means  of  a  ladder  manufactured  from  his  own  linen,  was 
retaken  and  confined  ten  years  in  the  Bastile,  when  he 
escaped  a  second  time;  was  again  overtaken  by  the  ter- 
rible vengeance  of  the  Director  of  the  Police,  and  find- 
ing a  new  dungeon  at  Bicetre,  was  there  recommended 
to  the  extreme  rigor  of  the  governor:  in  short,  his  cap- 
tivity for  a  harmless,  though  unworthy  trick  lasted  thirty- 
seven  years.  On  his  first  release,  Brunetiere  had  been 
acquainted  with  him  and  had  told  me  this  story,  but  had 
afterward  lost  sight  of  him,  to  my  great  relief,  for  I 
ardently  desired  to  see  M.  de  Latude. 

I  received  him  with  a  respect  and  tenderness  truly  sin- 
cere; but  my  enthusiasm  was  not  proof  against  an  old 
dotard  repeating  his  oft-told  tale  with  a  soporific  prolix- 
ity, which  occasioned  me  in  despair  to  address  Madame 
Lemoine.  She  was  a  retired  mercer,  who  one  day  pick- 
ing up  a  packet  in  the  Rue  Saint  Denis,  found  it  to  be 
a  tablet  made  of  the  crumb  of  bread  on  which,  with  a 
large  fishbone  for  his  pen,  the  poor  sufferer  had  written 
in  his  own  blood  the  history  of  his  imprisonment. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  433 

Madame  de  Pompadour  and  M.  de  Sartine  being  both 
dead,  Madame  Lemoine,  who  lost  no  time  in  applying  to 
the  Superintendent  of  Police,  had  little  difficulty  in  pro- 
curing his  liberation  in  consideration  of  his  long  deten- 
tion; she  devoted  herself  wholly  to  her  grateful  protfgf, 
who  always  called  her  his  guardian  angel;  and  uniting 
their  scanty  means  (for  De  Latude  enjoyed  from  funds 
at  Junot's  disposal  a  pension  of  two  hundred  francs ), 
they  lived  together  nearly  on  the  terms  of  father  and 
daughter. 

His  ladder  was  a  real  masterpiece  of  human  patience; 
it  contained  a  hundred  pieces  of  wood,  all  cut  with  a 
penknife  from  the  faggots  which  served  him  for  fuel; 
and  the  cord,  composed  of  single  threads  drawn  from  his 
linen,  and  twisted  by  himself,  was  nearly  of  the  thickness 
of  my  thumb.  On  his  first  flight  from  Vincennes  his  lad- 
der was  not  long  enough  by  fifteen  feet,  and  he  was 
therefore  obliged  to  drop  down,  and  dislocated  his  wrist. 

Madame  Lemoine  told  us  that  the  First  Consul  had 
desired  to  see  M.  de  Latude,  and  I  pictured  to  myself 
how  completely  he,  who  could  not  tolerate  much  talking 
from  his  most  intimate  friends,  would  be  wearied  by  the 
puerile  and  tedious  loquacity  of  this  AFFECTING  VICTIM 
OF  DESPOTISM,  who  had  passed  forty-one  years  of  his  life 
in  various  prisons.  The  visit  of  M.  de  Latude  left  a  dis- 
tressing impression  on  my  mind,  for  it  destroyed  a  pleas- 
ing illusion. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  week  I  experienced  a  sur- 
prise of  a  different  kind,  also  caused  by  a  person  I  had 
never  seen,  and  whose  name  sounded  in  my  ears  like  a 
cry  of  carnage. 

One  morning,  while  we  were  at  breakfast,  a  tall,  stout 
man  presented  himself,  of  an  unobjectionable  appearance 
and  countenance.  Junot  saluted  him ;  but  I  perceived 
that  his  salute  was  constrained.  Our  breakfast  over,  we 
passed  into  the  drawing-room.  The  stranger  walked  for- 
ward with  a  firm  and  resolute  step.  "This  is  an  odd 
person, w  thought  I  to  myself.  Junot  offered  him  coffee, 
which  he  refused  with,  w  No,  thank  you,  General,  I  never 
take  my  cup  in  the  morning;  as  for  a  small  glass,  if 
Mademoiselle  will  permit — 

<(  It  is  my  wife,"  said  Junot  in  a  very  serious  tone. 

aAh!  c't-sf  la  citoycnne  Junot !  and  the  personage  began 


424  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

to  stare  at  me  with  an  attention  which  excited  rather 
merriment  than  anger;  for  it  was  evident  that  this  man, 
though  rude  by  nature,  had  no  intention  of  being  so. 
Ah  !  it  is  the  citoyenne  Junot !  Diable,  colleague,  you 
have  not  taken  your  soundings  ill. M 

I  whispered  to  Junot  to  tell  me  the  name  of  this  GEN- 
ERAL, for  it  seemed  that  he  had  at  least  pretensions  to 
that  title.  ((  No, w  replied  Junot,  <(  you  must  guess  it ;  it 
is  a  name  prodigiously  well  known. w 

Meanwhile  the  tall  man  was  conversing  with  Junot's 
first  aid-de-camp,  M.  Laborde;  but  I  could  gather  noth- 
ing from  the  absurdities,  solecisms,  and  ill-arranged 
sentences,  which  were  passing  between  them. 

An  instrument  lay  on  the  table,  invented  and  con- 
structed by  Reigner,  the  mechanical  armorer,  for  measur- 
ing the  human  strength,  by  pressing  with  the  two  hands 
two  bands  of  leather  which  confine  a  semicircular  plate  of 
brass,  engraved  with  a  scale,  and  furnished  with  a  needle, 
which  is  made  to  move  in  proportion  to  the  force  of  the 
pressure,  and  indicates  by  the  number  to  which  it  points 
the  strength  of  the  individual. 

Junot  took  it  up,  and  pressing  it,  made  the  needle  run 
so  rapidly  and  forcibly,  that  it  nearly  struck  the  opposite 
extremity  of  the  dynamometer,  indicating  a  very  unusual 
strength  of  wrist.  The  strange  General  then  took  up  the 
instrument,  but  instead  of  using,  examined  it,  and  then 
said,  laughing: 

"  Stay !  that  resembles  those  implements  I  took  with 
me  when  I  went  down  yonder  to  the  west  with  Ronsin 
and  Rossignol.  I  had  also  a  learned  aid-de-camp,  a 
mathematician,  with  me. 

w  Well,  when  the  Convention  appointed  me  to  com- 
mand the  Republican  army,  I  refused,  because  I  know 
myself,  and  know  that  I  am  not  strong  in  the  article  of 
maneuvers ;  I  refused,  but  what  of  that  ?  What  the  Con- 
vention chose,  it  chose.  I  was  obliged  to  take  the  com- 
mand of  one  of  the  invincible  columns.  Ronsin  commanded 
another,  and  poor  Rossignol,  he  had  a  third.  Well,  I 
told  you  just  now  I  had  a  learned  aid-de-camp.  He 
declared  to  the  Convention  that  all  the  instruments,  of 
which  he  gave  me  a  list,  would  be  required  for  this 
campaign,  and  they  gave  me  them  all.  Two  little 
wagons  were  filled  with  them. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfcS  425 

<(  Away  I  carried  them ;  my  aid-de-camp,  Platiere,  made 
use  of  them,  and  then  sold  them ; M  and  he  ended  with  a 
loud  laugh ;  but  my  laughter  stopped  short.  This  speech 
had  made  him  known. 

It  was  Santerre !  Santerre  the  brewer,  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Antoine,  who  was,  on  the  nth  of  August,  1792, 
appointed  Commandant  of  the  Parisian  National  Guard, 
who  had  the  custody  of  the  Royal  Family  in  the  Temple, 
and  who  commanded  the  troops  on  the  2ist  of  January, 
1793;  he  was  first  sent  into  La  Vendee  to  command  a 
corps  with  those  two  wretches  whom  he  had  named  in 
my  hearing.  I  had  heard  from  inhabitants  of  Saumur, 
Montagne,  and  other  neighboring  towns,  frightful  details 
of  all  that  Santerre  had  done  in  La  Vendee. 

Though  his  name  is  known  as  associated  with  the  great 
political  tragedy,  yet  it  figures  in  a  few  lines  of  history, 
and  on  one  or  two  pages  so  stained  with  blood  as  to 
destroy  the  possibility  of  distinguishing  those  actions  in 
which  he  figures.  I  knew  much  of  him,  but  was,  I  con- 
fess, far  from  imagining  that  this  man  would  himself 
become  the  narrator,  to  afford  me  new  light  on  the 
horrors  committed  in  La  Vendee  by  what  were  called  the 
INFERNAL  LEGIONS,  commanded  by  himself,  Ronsin,  and 
Rossignol.  He  required  no  hint  to  assure  us,  himself, 
that  he  had  written  to  the  Ministry  of  War,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  the  authorities,  advising  them  to  send  wag- 
ons loaded  with  combustibles  into  La  Vendee  to  con- 
sume all  the  woods  and  coppices,  and  even  all  furze, 
heath,  and  broom,  by  fire,  so  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of 
the  Vendeans. 

<(  It  is  a  terrible  conception  to  be  tolerated  by  reason," 
said  Junot,  when  this  man  was  gone;  "and  yet  perhaps 
humanity  itself  would  have  followed  that  course,  in  order 
to  put  an  end  in  six  months  to  evils  which  lasted  forty. 
It  would  at  least  have  been  more  humane  than  letting 
loose  upon  them,  like  bloodhounds,  the  capitulated  gar- 
risons of  Mayence  and  Valenciennes,  and  afterward  those 
INFERNAL  LEGIONS  led  by  the  dregs  of  the  most  abject 
Jacobins. w 

I  asked  him  why  he  would  not  tell  me  Santerre's 
name. 

(<  Faith,  because  I  did  not  care  to  introduce  to  you  so 
creditable  an  acquaintance.  I  am  not  best  pleased  with 


426  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

his  visits,  and  accordingly  they  are  not  very  frequent. 
He  is  an  odious  creature;  he  is  neither  military,  civil, 
citizen,  nor  artisan;  he  abandoned  his  own  profession, 
and  all  the  professions  at  whose  doors  he  has  knocked 
have  refused  him  admission.  Republican  General  as  I 
am,  it  is  not  possible  for  me  to  give  my  hand  in  the 
middle  of  the  Tuileries  gardens  to  Santerre,  THE  REVOLU- 
TIONARY GENERAL,  which  means  General  commanding  the 
Revolutionary  army,  where  the  guillotine  marched  always 
in  readiness,  like  a  piece  of  artillery  with  the  match 
alight.  *  I  do  not  like  such  characters, w  said  Junot ;  (<  I 
am  a  Republican  by  taste  and  principle ;  but  I  have  a 
horror  of  the  blood,  the  massacres,  the  confiscations, 
which  constituted  that  frightful  system  of  horror  under 
which  France  groaned  for  several  years.  Santerre  is  a 
wretch,  and  he  is  under  a  sort  of  surveillance  from  the 
Staff  of  Paris,  which  obliges  him  to  present  himself,  I 
believe,  once  a  fortnight.  Well!  this  man,  I  am  sure, 
says  now  that  I  am  haughty,  and  have  not  fraternized 
with  him;  no,  certainly  I  have  not,  because  I  cannot 
esteem  him." 

I  inquired  whether  he  was  brave;  several  officers,  who 
had  arrived  since  his  departure,  answered  no  —  that  is, 
that  his  reputation  was  extremely  doubtful. 

Santerre  once  wrote  to  the  Commune  of  Paris :  <(  Learn 
that  I  have  burned  all  the  mills,  with  one  single  excep- 
tion, and  this  narrowly  escaped;  I  fortunately  learned 
before  setting  it  on  fire  that  it  belonged  to  a  patriot. M 

In  a  hamlet  near  Savenay  he  met  with  a  young  girl, 
who  pleased  him,  and  he  told  her  so.  Her  instant  answer 
was,  that  she  was  a  Vendean,  and  he  not  only  a  Blue, 
but  a  chief  of  the  Blues,  and  that,  consequently,  there 
existed  between  them  obstacles  which  could  never  be 
removed.  The  girl  had  a  grandfather,  sixty-five  years 
of  age.  The  Chief  of  the  Blues  had  the  village  again 
ransacked,  and  finally  burned;  he  then  carried  off  the 
young  girl  and  her  unhappy  grandfather,  who  died  in  a 
state  of  idiocy  from  grief  !  Poor  old  man,  and  poor 
France ! 

At  this  period  of  my  life,  no  day  passed  that  I  did 
not  see  Napoleon,  at  least,  unless  my  mother  was  very 

*  Lannes,  Bessieres,  and  several  other  Generals  of  Napoleon  were 
known  to  entertain  similar  view. 


DUCHESS   OF  ABRANTES  427 

ill.  It  was  easy  for  me  to  seek  a  conversation  with  him 
upon  what  I  had  seen,  nor  was  he  backward  in  question- 
ing me  about  all  that  interested  me,  so  that  he  was  not 
long  in  ignorance  of  Santerre's  visit. 

<(  How  is  that  ? »  said  Napoleon ;  «  I  thought  he  had 
been  dead  these  four  years.  Well,  what  say  you  of  him? 
Is  he  not  handsome  and  engaging  ?  These  are  the  honest 
men  who  would  fain  see  the  happy  days  of  1793  restored. 
M.  Santerre  would  find  it  delightful  to  obtain  the  epaulettes 
of  Lieutenant-General,  as  he  did  those  of  Brigadier- 
General,  by  leading  to  the  scaffold  men  less  worthless  than 
himself.  Did  you  know  Rossignol  ? w  I  had  never  seen 
him;  but  in  the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  was 
perfectly  acquainted  with  him,  for  his  own  question 
brought  to  the  First  Consul's  recollection  accumulated 
details  respecting  this  man,  Ronsin,  and  Charpentier, 
which  were  really  curious;  and  Junot  afterward  filled 
up  their  outlines  for  me. 

(<  He  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  evidences  that  we 
can  oppose  to  all  that  the  manifestoes  have  said  against 
us,w  observed  the  First  Consul,  when  the  name  of  Char- 
pentier was  mentioned.  <(  That  man  commanded  an  army 
—  that  of  the  Rhine,  at  a  time  when  we  had  everything 
to  fear;  all  our  frontiers  were  exposed,  like  a  dismantled 
town  after  an  assault,  yet  perhaps  no  victories  have  been 
more  splendid  than  those  then  gained  by  young  soldiers,  in 
absolute  want  of  bread,  shoes,  money,  and  of  clothing, 
and  under  Generals  such  as  Charbonnier,  Santerre,  Ron- 
sin,  and  Rossignol.  Rossignol,  speaking  of  Les  Echelles, 
in  Savoy,  said  one  day  in  a  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 
with  perfect  seriousness: 

(<  (I  can  easily  understand  that  my  infantry  could  pass, 
because  my  men,  however  loaded,  can  mount  a  LADDER; 
but  for  my  cavalry  and  artillery,  though  a  thousand 
devils  should  interfere,  they  could  not  teach  a  horse  to 
climb  a  LADDER.*  > 

On  the  subject  of  General  Charbonnier  no  one  was 
more  amusing  than  M.  Dietrich  the  lively  young  officer 
I  met  at  the  Opera  the  evening  of  the  explosion  of  the 
infernal  machine.  He  had  served  on  the  staff  in  Holland, 
when  Vandamme,  happily  for  the  army,  was  also  there. 
It  was  ascertained  one  morning  that  the  English  had 
landed.  M.  Dietrich  was  instantly  sent  to  the  head- 


428  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

quarters  of  the  General-in-Chief;  this  was  General  Char- 
bonnier,  who,  though  it  was  but  little  after  nine,  was 
found  at  a  table,  and  already  half  intoxicated. 

<(  General,  *  said  he  to  the  unprepared  Commander,  (<  the 
English  have  landed  —  your  orders  are  urgently  wanted; 
be  pleased  to  honor  me  with  them,  and  I  will  instantly 
set  out  again. w 

The  booby  of  a  pretended  warrior  looked  at  him  with 
eyes  somewhat  unsteady,  and  inquired: 

(<  Art  thou  a  good  patriot  ?  w 

(<  Yes,   my  General. B 

(<  Well !  seat  yourself  there ;  breakfast,  and  send  the 
English  to  the  devil." 

M.  Dietrich  was  then  but  eighteen,  full  of  gayety  and 
mirth:  and  certainly  his  mirth  could  not  want  a  better 
occasion;  but  he  feared  General  Vandamme,  who,  he  very 
well  knew,  was  capable  of  shortening  him  by  the  head 
had  he  failed  in  any  part  of  his  duty.  Aware  of  the 
critical  nature  of  his  situation,  he  endeavored,  while  the 
General-in-Chief  employed  himself  in  swallowing  some 
dozens  of  Ostend  oysters,  to  persuade  him  into  giving 
orders  for  the  regiments  to  march;  but,  finding  all  his 
efforts  unavailing,  he  was  at  length  resolving  to  return  to 
the  Chief  of  the  Staff,  when  Charbonnier,  who,  like  all 
drunkards,  had  one  fixed  notion,  recalled  him. 

<(  Stay  there, w  said  he ;  w  I  am  going  to  speak  to  you  — 
take  a  glass. ft 

(<  Thank  you,  General,  but  it  is  too  early ;  I  am  neither 
hungry  nor  thirsty. w 

w  What !  too  early !  I  am  wrong,  then,  in  drinking  and 
getting  my  breakfast  ?  Well,  thou  art  but  a  silly  prattler. 
Take  a  glass,  I  tell  you. w 

M.  Dietrich  accordingly  drank  his  health,  in  hopes  of 
soothing  him  and  being  permitted  to  retire,  but  the  latter 
was  more  easily  proposed  than  executed. 

(<  So, w  said  the  General,  (<  you  are  a  good  patriot !  * 

"Yes,  General,  a  very  good  patriot;  but,  unhappily,  so 
insignificant  a  point  is  not  the  present  question.  A  serious 
object  has  brought  me  here.  General  Vandamme  is  ex- 
pecting me,  and  is,  meanwhile,  exposed  to  the  enemy's 
fire.» 

There  had  been  some  fighting,  and  an  hour's  suspension 
of  arms  had  been  agreed  on,  to  wait  M.  Dietrich's 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTfiS  429 

return.  Vandamme  was  one  of  the  bravest  men  in  the 
world,  but  fiery  and  passionate,  and  quite  capable  of  sur- 
prising and  killing  General  Charbonnier.  The  young 
officer's  head  was  filled  with  these  reflections;  he  had  no 
hope  but  in  the  General's  speedily  rising  from  table,  and 
that  a  cup  of  coffee  might  sober  him.  Suddenly  he  heard 
the  cannon,  and  a  brisk  fire  of  musketry;  and,  starting 
up,  he  exclaimed: 

<(  Do  you  hear  ?  do  you  hear  ?  In  the  name  of  Heaven, 
General,  call  one  of  your  officers,  and  send  orders !  " 

<(  What  is  the  matter  now  ?  Leave  me  alone,  you  and 
your  Republic.  Leave  me  alone  to  finish  my  break- 
fast as  becomes  a  General-in-Chief." 

«  But,  General  » 

*  Ah !    this   is   too  much ;  I  repeat  to  you,  once  for  all, 
leave  me  in  peace.* 

<(  But,  General,  you  are  exposing  the  army  to  the 
greatest  danger.* 

(<  Bhrrr !  w  —  and  he  began  to  sing. 

*  General  Vandamme's  division  cannot  possibly  hold  out 
without  support.     It  will  be  compelled  to  yield  the  ground ! 
Where   would    you    have     it    take     refuge    if   obliged   to 
fly?" 

*Ah!  they  in  flight!  —  they!  No,  no!  —  and  if  they 
should,  leave  them  alone;  the  fools  know  the  roads  well 
enough.  * 

At  that  moment  the  quick  gallop  of  a  horse  was  heard ; 
in  less  than  a  minute  General  Vandamme  was  in  the 
room,  and  his  saber  whizzing  round  the  ears  of  Char- 
bonnier. 

A  nobler  figure  than  that  of  General  Vandamme  at 
this  period  cannot  well  be  imagined;  his  finely-formed 
head,  his  regular  features,  his  beautiful  curly  hair,  his 
glistening  eyes,  which,  when  angry,  seemed  to  flash  fire, 
his  exquisitely-turned  hand,  altogether  opposed  a  perfect 
contrast  to  the  ignoble  appearance  of  Charbonnier.  Van- 
damme, justly  incensed,  stood  before  his  brutalized  chief, 
making  his  sword  fly  round  his  head,  and  recommending 
him  to  prepare  for  instant  death. 

(<  This  is  thy  last  hour,  wretch !  How !  is  thy  soul  base 
enough  to  deliver  up  thy  comrades  to  be  massacred  by 
the  enemy,  and  that  enemy  the  English  ?  Let  every- 
thing be  instantly  in  order;  let  the  troops  march;  or 


430  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

rather  stay  here  and  sleep  thyself  sober;  the  army  has 
no  need  of  thee  to  conquer. )}  And  pushing  Charbonnier 
from  him  with  a  violence  that  flung  him  to  the  farther 
end  of  the  room,  he  went  away  with  Dietrich,  and  both 
jumping  on  their  horses,  rushed  into  the  midst  of  the 
fire  just  as  the  artillery  opened. 

Vandamme's  valor  in  circumstances  doubly  critical  from 
the  stupidity  or  treason  of  Charbonnier  was  eminently 
conspicuous.  The  incapacity  of  one  might  have  destroyed 
the  army,  but  the  courage  and  conduct  of  the  other  saved 
it.  This  was  the  first  attempted  descent  of  the  English, 
before  the  arrival  of  Brune  in  Holland. 

Charbonnier,  after  the  departure  of  Vandamme,  began 
to  grow  gradually  sober.  The  cannonading  was  so  inces- 
sant that  he  could  not  doubt  the  whole  army  was  en- 
gaged. In  the  midst  of  his  intemperance,  and  of  that 
thick  cloud  which  blocked  up  every  avenue  to  his  brain, 
he  yet  retained  some  portion  of  that  bravery  which  made 
him  originally  remarkable,  and  had  procured  for  him  the 
appointment  of  a  military  Proconsul.  He  plunged  his 
head  into  water,  and  mounting  his  horse,  hastened  to  the 
battle;  but  all  was  already  retrieved  by  General  Van- 
damme. 

Afterward,  when  peace  and  order  had  revisited  us,  the 
First  Consul  awarded  to  each  his  due.  Charbonnier  returned 
to  the  rank  of  a  Chief  of  Battalion,  and  had  the  com- 
mand of  a  garrison.  It  was  this  same  Charbonnier,  who, 
receiving  one  day  dispatches  from  the  Convention,  which 
directed  him  to  wait  ulterior  orders  (des  ordres  ult^rieurs), 
spent  a  whole  week  in  seeking  on  the  map  the  village 
ULT£RIEUR. 

Another  time,  when  he  was  giving  very  particular  or- 
ders for  the  passage  of  cavalry  from  Antwerp,  the  Com- 
missary, who  had  attentively  followed  Charbonnier's 
finger  on  the  map,  ventured  to  ask  him  where  the  road  was. 

"What!  n  said  the  General;  <(  do  not  you  see  this 
road  ? » 

<(  I  see  nothing.   General. >} 

<(  How  ! w    and  he    stamped,    for    he    was    passionate  — 
(<  how  !  not  see  that  road  !     It  is  large  enough,  however  ; 
it  is  superb  !     I  am  sure  it  is  more  than  a  hundred  feet 
wide  !  w 

I  can  well  believe  that,   for  it  was  the  Scheldt  ! 


DUCHESS  OF  ABRANTES  431 


CHAPTER    LIX. 

M.  Charles  —  Unimpeachable  Antecedents  —  Madame  Bonaparte  at  the 
Serbelloni  Palace  —  Espionage  of  Madame  Leclerc  — Bonaparte's 
Eyes,  and  the  Police  of  the  Hall  of  the  Throne  —  Arrest  of  M. 
Charles  at  Milan  —  Conversation  with  Pauline  Bonaparte  —  Recip- 
rocal Affliction  and  Consolation  —  Madame  Bonaparte's  First  Resi- 
dence at  Malmaison  —  Madame  La  Generate —  Sister  Rosalie  and 
the  Almoner  of  the  Army  of  Egypt  —  The  Master  in  the  Master's 
Absence  — Madame  Bonaparte's  Divorce  Advised  by  Gohier — Return 
from  the  Army  of  Egypt,  and  Banishment  of  M.  Charles  —  Bona- 
parte and  Duroc  on  the  Boulevards,  and  Unexpected  Encounter  — 
Junot's  Friendship  for  M.  Charles  —  The  True  Friends  of  JunoL 

AMONG  the  friends  introduced  to  me  by  Junot  were 
some  whose  names  especially  attracted  my  attention ; 
for  instance,  Monsieur  Charles,  born  at  Romans, 
of  an  obscure  family,  who  entered  the  army  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Revolution,  in  a  troop  of  cavalry 
formed  at  Besangon,  and  was  a  Lieutenant,  when  being 
ordered  into  Italy,  he  was  attached  as  Assistant  to  the 
Adjutant-General  Leclerc  at  Milan;  and  when  the  latter, 
on  his  marriage  with  Pauline  Bonaparte,  was  made  a 
Brigadier-General,  Charles  was  also  promoted  to  the  rank 
of  Captain  and  appointed  aid-de-camp  to  the  General. 

Just  at  this  time  Madame  Bonaparte  (Josephine)  arrived 
at  Milan,  and  lodged  at  the  Serbelloni  Palace,  where  she 
had  an  establishment  as  a  Sovereign. 

M.  Charles  was  introduced  to  her  in  common  with  all 
the  officers  of  the  army,  and  as  he  belonged  to  the 
establishment  of  General  Bonaparte's  brother-in-law,  he 
obtained  more  than  common  attention. 

Napoleon,  almost  always  absent  from  home,  was  either 
occupied  in  Milan  itself,  or  in  journeys  in  the  neighbor- 
hood; he  therefore  did  not  see  anything  that  transpired 
there  but  what  fell  immediately  beneath  his  own  eye. 
His  sister,  Madame  Leclerc,  was  not  like  him ;  she  was 
unoccupied,  but  desired  some  sort  of  employment,  and 
therefore  commenced  a  strict  watch  over  the  conduct  of 
a  sister-in-law  whom  she  hated,  such  an  occupation  being 
as  good  as  any  other;  but  I  believe  she  deceived  herself, 
for  although  she  was  not  long  in  ascertaining  that  M. 


432  MEMOIRS  OF  MADAME   JUNOT 

Charles  and  Madame  Bonaparte  were  in  close  communi- 
cation, and  that  this  intimacy  occupied  much  of  their 
thoughts,  she  found  that  this  attachment  might  be,  but  was 
not  in  fact,  anything  more  than  a  tender  friendship. 

M.  Charles  was  about  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight 
years  of  age ;  small,  well  made,  with  good  features,  a  dark, 
clear  complexion,  and  hair  black  as  jet;  he  was  altogether 
attractive,  although  a  little  deficient  in  the  polish  of  ele- 
gant society.  He  wore  a  superb  hussar's  uniform  covered 
with  gold  lace,  and  breakfasted  at  the  Serbelloni  Palace 
whenever  Napoleon  left  it,  and  no  one  in  the  army  or  in 
Milan  was  a  stranger  to  the  interest  Madame  Bonaparte 
testified  for  him. 

This  fact  reached  at  length  the  General-in-Chief. 
Through  whom  ?  Probably  his  own  eyes !  So  it  might 
certainly  be  presumed ;  for  those  penetrating  eyes  consti- 
tuted the  sole  police  of  the  Throne  Room  at  the  Tuileries : 
and  such  was  their  clearness  and  precision  that  the  dark- 
est corner  of  the  Hall  would  scarcely  avail  to  escape  their 
keen  inquisition.  Be  this  as  it  may,  at  the  headquarters 
of  the  Army  of  Italy  it  was  suddenly  rumored  that  M. 
Charles  had  been  arrested  by  order  of  the  General-in- 
Chief,  and  would  certainly  be  shot. 

I  do  not  answer  for  the  cause  of  General  Bonaparte's 
displeasure  against  M.  Charles;  I  am  narrating  only,  and 
though,  like  Werther,  I  should  narrate  the  same  thing  for 
the  tenth  time,  I  could  say  no  more  than  I  do,  that  M. 
Charles  was  arrested  against  the  will,  and  perhaps  on 
account  of  Madame  la  Gtntrale-en-chtf,  a  proceeding  griev- 
ous to  both,  at  least  so  it  may  be  presumed.  Madame 
Leclerc,  who  was  known  to  be  GOODNESS  ITSELF,  said  to 
me,  *  In  short,  conceive,  Laurette,  that  my  sister-in-law 
had  nearly  died  of  vexation;  and  we  certainly  do  not 
die  of  vexation  from  merely  parting  with  our  friends. 
There  must  be  more  than  friendship  concerned  in  this 
matter.  For  my  part,  I  have  comforted  my  brother,  who 
was  very  unhappy.  He  was  aware  of  it  all  when  he 
came  to  Paris,  before  he  set  out  for  Egypt.  Poor 
brother!  * 

And  the  kind  sister  pitied  him  most  liberally  for  the 
unhappiness  which  she  herself  had  probably  caused  him. 
Madame  Leclerc  was  a  droll  character  to  study.  She  has 
been  well  sketched  and  well  painted;  but  so  strange  was 


DUCHESS   OF    ABRANT&S  433 

her  character,  that  no  one  has  ever  succeeded  in  making 
a  finished  picture  of  her. 

M.  Charles  was  obliged  to  quit  the  Army  of  Italy,  and, 
returning  to  Paris,  the  interest  of  Madame  Bonaparte 
procured  him  a  partnership  in  the  mercantile  house  of 
Louis  Bodin;  there  he  made  a  great  fortune,  which  was 
afterward  impaired.  He  kept  a  good  house,  and  associ- 
ated with  the  bankers,  the  only  class  which  held  regular 
receptions  at  the  time  of  Madame  Bonaparte's  return 
from  Italy,  and  her  husband's  departure  for  Egypt.  It 
was  then  she  purchased  Malmaison,  and  established  her- 
self there. 

A  friend  of  my  mother,  who  was  inhabiting  Ruelle, 
used  to  tell  us  that  she  saw  Madame  la  Gtntrale,  the  name 
she  was  known  by  in  the  village,  walking  very  late  in 
the  garden.  <(  By  moonlight,"  said  Rosalie,  "and  when, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  son,  her  white  dress  and  flow- 
ing veil  are  contrasted  with  his  dingy  attire  of  black  or 
blue,  the  effect  is  quite  fantastic.  They  might  be  taken 
for  phantoms.  Poor  woman !  she  is  then  thinking,  perhaps, 
of  her  first  husband,  who  fell  a  victim  to  the  Revolu- 
tionary executioners!  Thinking  also  of  him  by  whom, 
through  the  mercy  of  Providence,  her  loss  is  repaired, 
and  of  whom  a  cannon  ball  may  in  a  moment  deprive 
her.  How  does  he  manage,  down  yonder,  to  hear  mass 
amid  all  those  Turks,  Mademoiselle  Laure  ? w  asked  the 
pious  girl.  <(  Why,  I  suppose  he  has  a  chaplain, w  answered 
I;  and  at  that  time  I  really  believed  it. 

Madame  Bonaparte  sometimes  came  to  Paris  to  visit 
Barras,  Madame  Tallien,  and  Madame  Gohier,  to  whom 
she  was  very  partial;  sometimes  she  would  also  see  her 
mother  and  brothers-in-law,  but  not  often,  for  she  did 
not  like  them ;  the  war,  however,  though  certainly  mutual, 
was  not  begun  on  their  side.  She  was  then  in  direct 
hostility  with  Joseph,  the  mildest  and  best  of  men,  and 
at  enmity  with  Madame  Bonaparte  the  mother,  and  Ma- 
dame Lucien,  an  angel  of  goodness.  I  know  not  what 
caused  the  animosity  that  had  arisen  between  them,  but 
I  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with  Madame  Laetitia  and 
Madame  Christine  to  answer  for  them. 

Malmaison,  at  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  was  a  pretty 
country  house  with  agreeable  environs,  but  very  incon- 
venient and  most  unwholesome.  Brunetiere,  who  was 
28 


434  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

somehow  mixed  up  in  the  affair,  told  me  that  Madame 
Bonaparte  had  made  this  acquisition  as  a  child  buys  a 
new  toy  that  strikes  her  fancy,  without  considering 
whether  it  will  long  amuse  her.  The  park  was  small, 
sloping  on  all  sides,  and  resembled  a  pretty  English 
garden. 

It  was  inclosed,  excepting  the  length  of  the  lawn  in 
front  of  the  clidteau,  with  a  wall  stretching  along  the 
road  of  St.  Germain  ;  the  lawn  was  bordered  with  a  ha- 
ha,  on  the  brink  of  which  stood  a  small  flight  of  iron 
steps,  affording  a  resting  place  and  a  view  over  the  road, 
which  could  also  be  seen  from  the  park.  The  fine  planta- 
tions that  now  surround  the  chdteau,  and  all  its  out-offices, 
were  not  then  in  existence. 

M.  Charles  inhabited  Malmaison  in  the  quality  of  mas- 
ter; friends,  we  know,  have  privileges.  Gohier,  who 
was  always  thrown  into  a  brown  study  by  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  1 8th  Brumaire,  but  was  otherwise  an  honest 
and  sensible  man,  strongly  persuaded  Josephine  to  a  de- 
cided step. 

*  Divorce, w  said  he,  when  all  in  tears  she  refused  the 
advice  he  gave  her  to  break  off  a  connection  which  com- 
promised her  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  (<  divorce ;  you  tell 
me  it  is  only  friendship  that  exists  between  M.  Charles 
and  yourself  ;  but  if  that  friendship  is  so  strong  that  it 
impels  you  to  violate  the  observances  of  the  world,  I  shall 
say  to  you,  as  if  it  were  love,  divorce ;  because  friendship 
so  exclusive  will  stand  in  lieu  of  all  other  sentiments. 
Believe  me,  all  this  will  cause  you  regret. w  Gohier  was 
right;  he  saw  the  matter  in  its  true  light,  but  Josephine 
would  not  listen. 

When,  after  his  return  from  Egypt,  Bonaparte  was  on 
the  point  of  himself  effecting  what  Gohier  had  some 
months  previously  advised  should  be  done  prudently  and 
quietly,  Josephine  screamed,  wept,  and  was  in  despair. 
She  would  not  hear  of  a  divorce  when  he  was  at  a  dis- 
tance, much  less  could  she  endure  it  when  the  splendor 
of  his  glory  enlightened  all  Europe  with  its  rays ;  but  in 
consenting  to  surrender  his  proposal,  he  exacted,  as  an 
absolute  condition,  the  banishment  of  M.  Charles,  and 
her  promise  never  to  see  him  more. 

Napoleon  detested  M.  Charles;  he  never  mentioned 
him,  or  suffered  him  to  be  named  in  his  presence.  But 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  435 

I  know  some  incidents  on  this  subject  which  have  ex- 
cessively surprised  me,  for  I  did  not  believe  him  sus- 
ceptible of  so  much  emotion. 

One  morning  when  Napoleon  was  walking-  out  with 
Duroc  to  survey  the  works  of  the  bridge  of  Austerlitz, 
which  was  then  building,  a  cabriolet  dashed  at  a  rapid 
pace  along  the  boulevard.  Duroc  felt  the  Emperor  press 
his  arm  for  support  and  rest  heavily  upon  it,  and  saw 
him  at  the  same  time  grow  unusually  pale.  Duroc  would 
have  cried  out  for  assistance,  but  the  Emperor  silenced 
him  with,  (<  It  is  nothing;  be  quiet!*  The  cabriolet  con- 
tained M.  Charles,  whom  Napoleon  had  not  seen  so  close 
since  he  left  Italy. 

What  could  be  the  sentiment  which  agitated  him?  Was 
it  still  love  for  Josephine?  He  loved  her  no  longer;  he 
was  then  attached  to  an  enchanting  woman,  the  only  one 
he  ever  really  loved.  Napoleon  considered  this  man  his 
enemy,  and  hated  him. 

Not  so  Junot;  he  had  been  intimately  associated  with 
M.  Charles  in  Italy,  and  they  entertained  for  each  other 
a  sincere  friendship.  Junot  did  not  always  bestow  his 
regard  so  well;  he  was  far  more  easily  deceived  by  ap- 
pearances than  I  was  on  his  behalf,  frequently  granting 
his  friendship  where  it  was  betrayed,  while  he  denied  it 
to  his  true  friends.  How  long  did  he  distress  me  re- 
specting Duroc!  but  at  length  he  came  to  his  senses. 
Duroc  was  the  best  of  friends. 

M.  Charles  purchased,  in  the  year  1803  or  1804,  a 
property  called  Casan.  His  affairs  being  subsequently 
much  embarrassed  it  was  sold,  and  he  returned  to  Ro- 
mans, his  native  town,  where  he  lived  retired  and  re- 
spectably. 


436  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER    LX. 


Superior  Men  Appreciators  of  Bonaparte  —  Rival  Generals — Kleber's 
Feelings  toward  General  Bonaparte — Kleber's  Letters  —  Bona- 
parte's Eyes  Turned  toward  the  East  —  Projects  of  a  Great  Man  — 
Desire  of  Preserving  Egypt  —  Explanation  of  Bonaparte's  Return 
from  Egypt  —  The  Army  of  Druses  —  The  Successor  of  Kleber  — 
General  Menou  —  Junot,  Lanusse,  and  the  Consequences  of  a  Duel — 
Bonaparte's  Enmity  toward  Tallien. 


ALL  the  leaders  of  thought  of  the  day  have  avoided 
either  thinking  or  speaking  ill  of  Napoleon. 
Chateaubriand,  Lamartine,  Victor  Hugo,  Casimir 
Delavigne,  the  Abbe  de  la  Mennais,  all  these  men  have 
passed  judgment  on  the  Colossus;  they  have  seen  his 
faults,  but  have  recognized  his  great  qualities:  these 
learned  men  have  not  spared  their  criticism,  mingled 
with  approbation.  Kleber,  though  his  enemy,  yet  pro- 
foundly admired  him,  because  his  fine  genius  was  capa- 
ble of  appreciating  greatness. 

When  Bonaparte  was  Commander-in-Chief  in  Italy, 
other  Generals,  jealous  of  that  young  head  so  useful  to 
his  country,  could  not  assemble  but  they  must  discuss, 
with  reflections  not  over-charitable,  the  military  oper- 
ations of  the  young  General,  who,  as  some  said,  after 
having  announced  his  intention  of  conquering  Italy,  like 
another  Hannibal,  was  now  gone,  like  him,  to  take  his 
rest  at  Capua.  This  was  in  allusion  to  his  retiring  on 
Piedmont  after  having  threatened  Lombardy. 

Kleber,  who  had  talent  enough  to  understand  this 
maneuver,  and  who,  being  yet  a  stranger  to  Napoleon, 
was  not  then  at  variance  with  him  (which,  it  may  be 
observed,  he  uniformly  was  with  the  General  command- 
ing him),  did  full  justice  to  Bonaparte's  abilities,  both 
military  and  civil;  and  on  these  occasions  always  de- 
fended him  against  the  mediocrity  which  attacked  him, 
with  that  vigor  and  generosity  inspired  by  talent  and 
courage. 

Bonaparte  was  haunted  by  visions  of  the  East.  He 
would  sometimes  dilate  on  this  subject  for  three  hours 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  437 

without  intermission,  and  often  uttered  the  greatest  follies 
with  inconceivable  seriousness.  He  frequently  conversed 
on  the  subject  of  the  East  with  our  friend  Admiral 
Magon,  questioning  him  upon  India.  Napoleon  would 
listen  with  avidity,  watching  the  Rear-Admiral's  counte- 
nance, and  seeming  to  snatch  the  words  from  his  lips. 
Sometimes  he  would  exclaim: 

"It  is  there  —  it  is  in  India  we  must  attack  the  English 
power.  It  is  there  we  must  strike  her!  The  Russians  will 
not  allow  us  a  passage  to  Persia;  well,  then,  we  must 
get  there  by  another  road.  I  know  that  road,  and  I  will 
take  it!  * 

Originally,  Turkey  was  the  scene  of  his  projects;  but 
his  ideas  were  afterward  very  different,  and  more  prac- 
ticable. When  the  Egyptian  expedition  was  at  last  de- 
cided on,  Napoleon  said  to  Junot  and  to  some  others  of 
his  officers: 

"  I  am  going  to  repair,  if  possible,  the  misfortune  of 
our  ravaged  or  lost  colonies.  Egypt  will  be  a  magnifi- 
cent compensation;  and  the  acquisition  of  that  beautiful 
country  for  France  shall  be  the  object  of  this  expedi- 
tion. » 

Such  were  his  predominant  views  during  the  passage, 
on  his  arrival,  and  while  he  resided  there.  How  much 
did  he  suffer  when  he  saw  his  fleet  destroyed,  and  all 
the  means  of  internal  safety  endangered  by  that  loss! 

Bonaparte's  ardent  passion  for  the  retention  of  Egypt 
is  so  well  known  to  all  who  were  with  him,  that  it 
appears  to  me  impossible  for  the  most  perverted  mind  to 
see  his  return  to  Europe  in  any  other  light  than  as  a 
struggle  for  the  preservation  of  that  colony,  which  in  his 
very  dreams  formed  a  nucleus  for  the  incessant  discharge 
of  shafts  against  England. 

Was  his  project  of  forming  a  junction  with  an  army 
of  thirty  thousand  Druses  near  Mount  Lebanon  nothing  ? 
and  that  of  conquering  those  parts  of  Egypt  that  were 
inhabited  by  tribes  easily  guided,  uniting  those  tribes 
with  the  Druses,  and  attempting  to  penetrate  into  Persia, 
was  this  nothing  ? 

One  day,  speaking  of  Egypt,  he  made  use  of  an  ex- 
pression which  I  then  thought  very  extraordinary,  and  I 
jokingly  reminded  him  of  it  three  days  before  his  coro- 
nation. 


438  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

<(  It  is  vexatious, w  said  he,  <(  to  have  been  prevented 
meeting  my  Druses;  I  MISSED  MY  FORTUNE. }> 

General  Menou  had  been  long  in  the  service  before  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Revolution;  had  served  in  India 
and  had  acquired  in  his  travels  a  love  of  the  marvelous 
sufficiently  amusing,  but  which  prevented  all  reliance  on 
his  tales.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence  that  this  same 
General,  the  Marquis  de  Menou,  who  turned  Turk  in 
1801,  presided  over  the  Constituent  Assembly  on  the  iQth 
of  June,  1790,  when  those  throngs  were  introduced,  call- 
ing themselves  Arabians,  Chaldeans,  Syrians,  Americans, 
Poles,  Prussians,  etc.,  etc.,  and  he  very  gravely  replied 
to  the  oration  of  the  Arabs  :  ((  Gentlemen,  it  was  Arabia 
which  gave  the  first  lesson  of  philosophy  to  Europe: 
France  now  discharges  the  debt  by  giving  you  lessons  of 
liberty.  *  When  commanding  the  Republican  troops,  he 
was  defeated  at  Saumur  by  La  Rochejaquelin  and  Les- 
cure.  On  the  i4th  of  October  he  commanded  in  Paris, 
but  resigned. 

Of  an  adventurous  disposition,  though  no  longer  young, 
he  joined  the  Egyptian  expedition  by  his  own  desire. 
By  the  assassination  of  Kleber  after  the  battle  of  Heli- 
opolis,  he,  as  senior,  succeeded  to  the  command.  His 
administration  was  able,  but,  like  that  of  the  Generals  of 
Madame  de  Pompadour  and  Madame  du  Barry,  dis- 
tinguished by  the  goodness  of  its  suppers  and  the  disgrace 
of  its  army. 

Abercrombie,  with  18,000  Englishmen,  landed  at  this 
same  strand  of  Aboukir,  and  Menou  lost  the  Battle  of 
Canopus,  and  with  it  the  possession  of  Egypt.  Shut  up 
in  Alexandria,  and  cut  off  from  all  communication  with 
the  rest  of  his  army,  he  had  not  even  the  consolation  of 
effecting  the  reduction  of  Cairo,  a  charge  which  devolved 
upon  Belliard:  the  definitive  capitulation  at  length  re- 
ceived his  signature,  and,  returning  to  Europe,  he  was 
well  received  by  Napoleon,  who  appointed  him  Admin- 
istrator-General of  Piedmont. 

One  day,  soon  after  the  arrival  of  General  Vial,  the 
envoy  of  General  Abdalla  Menou,  the  First  Consul  being 
in  his  cabinet  with  Berthier,  Junot,  and  Bourrienne, 
who  were  busily  unsealing  the  numerous  fumigated 
packets  brought  by  General  Vial,  the  First  Consul 
hinted  his  intention  of  changing  the  command  of  the 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  439 

Eastern  army;  he  spoke  of  Menou,  lauded  his  pleasing 
manners  in  a  drawing-room,  his  agreeable  way  of  telling 
a  story. 

<(But,w  added  he,  "all  that  is  useless  at  the  head  of  an 
army;  and  Kleber,  with  his  cynical  sayings  and  his  rough 
exterior,  is  far  better  suited  to  the  Army  of  Egypt  in 
its  present  situation."  The  generals  then  in  Egypt  came 
under  consideration,  and  when  Berthier  named  some  of 
them  he  shook  his  head;  at  length  he  resumed  the 
conversation  after  a  long  silence,  and  as  if  talking  to 
himself: 

w  Regnier  ?  —  Damas  ? — F riant  ? — No,  none  of  these. — 
Belliard  ?  —  He  is  a  child,  though  a  brave  one.  —  Old 
Leclerc  ? — No. —  Well!  after  all,  Abdalla  Joseph  Menou 
serves  our  turn  best  yonder,  Berthier;  but  we  must  give 
him  an  able  chief  of  the  staff,  or  rather  second  in  com- 
mand, and  here  we  have  a  choice. " 

This  suggested  an  idea  to  Junot.  "General,"  said  he, 
(<  you  know  best  what  you  are  about,  but  /  know  whom  I 
should  choose."  The  First  Consul  turned  on  him  an 
interrogative  look.  "General  Lanusse." 

<(Oh!  oh!  you  do  not  bear  malice?" 

<(  Why  should  I,  my  General  ?  I  fought  Lanusse  for  a 
foolish  gaming  quarrel,  which,  besides,  was  but  a  pretext. 
I  thought  he  was  not  attached  to  you,  that  he  partook 
the  sentiments  of  General  Damas." 

"Oh!  as  to  him,  he  does  not  like  me,  indeed!  Well,  I 
have  a  great  mind  to  appoint  him." 

"  General  Damas,  my  General  ?  " 

<(  Yes.  Lanusse  has  talent  and  courage,  but  Damas  is 
not  behind  him  in  either,  and  as  a  general  officer  he  is 
of  quite  a  different  caliber:  besides,  Lanusse  has  con- 
founded democratical  notions,  and  is  in  correspondence, 
as  well  as  his  brother,  with  a  man  so  immoral  as  to  com- 
promise even  his  acquaintances;  think  of  the  effect  M. 
Tallien's  friendly  support  must  produce.  I  do  not  like 
M.  Tallien.  I  hate  that  man ;  he  is  wicked  himself,  and 
a  corrupter  of  others.  The  two  Lanusses  are  both  game- 
sters, and  they  have  learned  it  of  him.  But  Damas,  he 
is  an  Aristides. " 

This  was  true.  Damas  was  one  of  those  virtuous  and 
extraordinary  men  whom  nature  but  rarely  molds. 

He  died    only  two    or  three  years   ago,  in  the  Rue  du 


440  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Saint  Pere,  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  in  the  bosom  of 
his  numerous  family;  his  funeral  was  simple  (for  his 
circumstances  had  been  very  limited),  and  borrowed  all 
its  solemnity  from  the  presence  of  a  group  of  generals, 
his  former  brethren-in-arms.  General  Edward  Colbert, 
his  aid-de-camp  in  Egypt,  pronounced  his  funeral  oration, 
in  which  he  professed  his  attachment  to  his  former 
General. 


CHAPTER    LXI. 

Lucien's  Embassy  to  Madrid —  Bonaparte's  Orders  Relative  to  Egypt 

—  Lucien's    Letter  to   General    Menou  —  A    Faithful  Friend  of  the 
Republic  —  Reduction    of     Egypt,    and     Tardy    Mission  —  Sicily  — 
Naples  and  M.  Alquier —  The  Sister  of    the  Queen  of   the  French 

—  Mesdames  de  France  at  the  Palace  of  Caserta  —  M.  Goubaud,  the 
Roman  Painter  —  The  Princesses  and  the  Tricolored  Cravat  —  The 
Painter  of  the  Emperor's  and  King  of  Rome's  Cabinet 

AT  this  time,  Lucien  having  accomplished  the  princi- 
pal object  of  his  embassy  in  Spain,  turned  his 
attention  to  his  brother's  orders  respecting  Egypt, 
and  sent  my  brother-in-law,  M.  Geouffre,  on  a  mission 
to  General  Menou ;  he  had  at  first  selected  for  that  service 
M.  Clement,  first  adjutant  of  the  Consular  Guard,  and 
embarked  him  at  Barcelona;  but  the  secret  had  not  been 
well  kept;  the  English  were  apprised  of  the  hour  of 
sailing,  and  M.  Clement,  with  his  written  instructions, 
fell  into  their  hands. 

Lucien  was  satisfied  of  my  brother-in-law's  entire  de- 
votion to  him,  and  felt,  moreover,  assured  that  with  his 
address,  experience,  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  he 
would  not  suffer  his  mission  to  miscarry,  even  though  he 
should  be  taken  by  the  English,  who  lay  in  wait  at  the 
entrance  of  every  port  to  take  every  vessel  that  ventured 
from  shore. 

The  French  ambassador  obtained  an  order  from  the 
King  of  Spain  for  the  arming  of  an  American  vessel ;  my 
brother-in-law  embarked  in  the  disguise  of  a  sailor,  and 
as  far  as  Malta  the  voyage  was  favorable.  There  he  was 
informed  of  Menou's  capitulation ;  but  not  being  able 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  441 

absolutely  to  rely  on  his  authority,  determined,  as  the 
safest  course,  to  seek  some  Italian  port,  and  attaching 
two  of  his  comrades  to  his  fortunes,  they  took  flight  in 
a  small  boat,  and  landed  on  the  Sicilian  coast,  which  they 
found  entirely  deserted,  the  inhabitants  being  frightened 
away  by  the  frequent  invasions  of  Algerine  corsairs. 

The  sanitary  laws  of  Sicily  were  that  year  excessively 
severe,  under  the  apprehension  not  only  of  the  plague, 
but  also  of  the  yellow  fever,  which  was  raging  violently 
in  Spain.  As  any  quarantine  would  have  subjected  him 
to  extreme  inconvenience  and  delay,  M.  Geouffre  took 
every  possible  precaution  to  avoid  observation,  and  found 
an  asylum  for  the  night  in  an  old  chapel,  whose  ruins 
gave  melancholy  evidence  of  the  devastation  committed 
by  the  pirates.  The  next  morning  a  priest  who  was 
passing  the  ruined  chapel  on  his  road  to  Palermo  under- 
took at  my  brother-in-law's  request,  the  delivery  of  two 
letters  from  him;  one  to  the  Spanish  Consul,  who  also  ful- 
filled the  functions  of  the  French  Consulate;  and  the 
other  to  the  Governor  of  Palermo,  in  both  of  which, 
with  a  very  slight  and  excusable  departure  from  truth,  he 
represented  himself  as  attached  to  the  Spanish  embassy. 

The  next  day  the  priest  returned  with  favorable  answers, 
and  M.  Geouffre,  with  his  two  sailors,  whom  he  amply 
recompensed,  and  the  priest  who  served  him  by  the  road 
both  as  interpreter  and  paymaster,  arrived  at  Palermo, 
where  he  was  most  graciously  received  by  the  Spanish 
Consul,  and  procured  through  his  means  every  facility  for 
his  progress  to  Naples.  From  that  place  he  embarked  in 
a  small  felucca,  and  landed  at  the  foot  of  the  mole, 
certain  of  finding  at  the  house  of  the  French  Ambassador, 
Alquier,  whom  Lucien  Bonaparte  had  succeeded  at 
Madrid,  every  accommodation  he  could  desire.  With 
Alquier  no  secrecy  was  necessary  on  the  subject  of  his 
Egyptian  mission,  and  they  lamented  together  its  ill  suc- 
cess, and  the  important  loss  the  nation  had  sustained. 

The  French  Ambassador  presented  my  brother-in-law 
at  the  Neapolitan  Court,  then  in  all  its  brilliancy,  and 
preparing  for  the  double  nuptial  of  the  Prince  of  As- 
turias  with  a  Neapolitan  princess,  sister  of  the  present 
Queen  of  the  French,  and  of  the  Infanta  Donna  Marianna 
with  the  Prince  Royal  of  Naples.  The  Princess  of  As- 
turias  I  had  the  honor  of  being  particularly  acquainted 


442  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

with,  and  was  much  distinguished  by  her;  her  memory  is 
very  dear  to  me. 

After  a  short  stay  in  the  beautiful  and  harmonious 
Parthenope,  which  still  mourned  the  divine  Cimarosa,  my 
brother-in-law  returned  to  Spain,  having  derived  no  other 
advantage  from  an  expedition  that  endangered  both  his 
liberty  and  life  than  that  of  having  seen  Naples  and  its 
enchanting  bay. 

Parthenope  has  recalled  to  my  mind  a  story  that  oc- 
curred in  that  same  Italy,  and  very  near  Naples;  it  re- 
lates to  Madame  Adelaide  and  Madame  Victoire,  and 
happened  at  this  period.  Mesdames  de  France  inhabited 
the  Castle  of  Caserta,  a  royal  country  house  belonging  to 
the  Court  of  Naples. 

Their  Court  was  still  tolerably  numerous,  and  to  divert 
the  tedium  its  younger  members  must  otherwise  have 
contracted  from  their  recluse  mode  of  life,  the  Princesses 
frequently  had  little  balls,  composed  only  of  their  own 
suite.  A  single  violin  formed  the  orchestra,  under  the 
direction  of  M.  Chazote,  governor  of  the  young  Comte  de 
Chastellux.  It  seems  he  was  not  very  clever,  and  that 
Collinet  would  not  have  been  likely  to  engage  him  as  his 
second,  for  he  inhumanly  mangled  the  most  common  airs, 
such  as  the  monaco,  les  deux  cogs,  and  other  new  dances. 

The  dissonance  was  once  so  insupportable  to  the  prac- 
ticed ear  of  Madame  Adelaide,  that,  starting  from  her 
seat,  she  took  the  violin  from  M.  Chazote's  hands,  and 
her  Royal  Highness  played  through  the  whole  country- 
dance  with  a  taste  and  precision  which  called  forth  the 
gratitude  and  the  amazement  of  the  dancers,  nearly  all 
of  whom  were  ignorant  that  she  could  handle  the  instru- 
ment. Madame  Adelaide  appeared  as  much  amused  with 
fingering  her  bow  as  the  dancers  in  following  it,  for  no 
sooner  had  she  concluded  the  country-dance  she  had  car- 
ried off  from  poor  M.  Chazote,  whom  she  told  to  <(  Go 
and  dance, }>  than  she  tuned  her  instrument,  and  issued  the 
word  of  command,  ft  To  your  places.  * 

But  the  Duchesse  de  Narbonne,  who  perhaps  thought 
the  Princess  was  forgetting  her  dignity,  majestically 
crossed  the  room,  and  remonstrated  with  such  firmness 
that  the  excellent  Princess  surrendered  her  own  amuse- 
ment and  that  which  she  was  conferring.  A  spectator 
has  assured  me  that  nothing  could  be  more  picturesque 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  443 

and  graceful  than  Madame  Adelaide,  in  her  stiff  Gothic 
dress,  playing  so  unusual  an  instrument;  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, Madame  Victoire,  who  could  never  laugh,  even  ia 
the  salons  of  Versailles,  and  was  now  cold,  serious,  and 
severely  melancholy,  appeared  to  look  with  a  reproving 
eye  on  her  sister,  while  the  young  Louise  de  Narbonne, 
the  ornament  of  the  Court,  as  she  would  have  been  of 
Versailles,  and  the  two  Comtesses  de  Chastellux,  all  three 
young,  pretty,  and  dressed  with  the  simplicity  becoming 
their  age,  formed  a  striking  contrast  with  the  starched 
exiles  of  the  old  Court. 

M.  Goubaud,  the  young  Roman  painter  of  the  house- 
hold of  the  Princesses,  made  an  exquisite  sketch  of  this 
little  scene. 

Youth  loves  smartness,  and  is  coquettish  in  males  as 
well  as  females.  This  young  M.  Goubaud,  who  was  in 
high  favor  both  with  Mesdames  de  France  and  Madame 
de  Narbonne  herself,  who  was  never  prodigal  of  her 
favor,  was  then  a  pretty  boy  of  eighteen  or  twenty.  One 
day  he  went  out  to  attend  a  fair,  or  village  fete. 

Goubaud,  while  eyeing  the  pretty  girls,  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  most  coquettish,  and  running  after  the  most 
timid,  suddenly  spied  an  immense  silk  handkerchief  with 
a  broad  border  of  lively  and  glaring  colors.  The  ftte, 
the  peasant-girls,  all  disappeared  before  the  flattering 
idea  that  that  very  night,  or  on  the  morrow  at  farthest, 
he  shall  outshine  the  whole  household  of  Mesdames  in 
this  large  and  many-colored  cravat.  He  purchased  it, 
and  returned  to  Caserta  as  enraptured  with  his  bargain 
as  if  he  had  bought  the  Pope's  tiara,  which,  be  it  said 
en  passant,  was  not  then  at  Rome. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  it  was  the  custom  of 
the  house  for  the  Princesses  to  pass  to  Mass  through  the 
ranks  of  their  assembled  household,  inclining  their  heads, 
speaking  to  the  women,  and  smiling  at  the  men.  Goubaud, 
decked  like  a  bridegroom,  and  proud  as  a  peacock,  had 
placed  himself  opposite  to  an  open  window,  where  he 
might  appear  in  all  the  plenitude  of  his  beauty.  The 
usher  of  the  chambers,  opening  the  folding  doors,  an- 
nounced Madame  Victoire  and  Madame  Adelaide. 

Madame  Victoire,  whose  habitually  calm  countenance 
seldom  betrayed  any  feeling,  on  perceiving  the  young 
Roman  appeared  perfectly  astonished.  She  paused  a 


444  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

moment,  seeming-  about  to  speak ;  then,  apparently  unwill- 
ing to  compromise  her  dignity,  she  recovered  her  composure, 
and  passed  on  without  noticing  the  confident  and  smiling 
salute  of  the  good  youth.  He  now  awaited  Madame 
Adelaide,  who  was  far  more  beloved  than  her  sister;  but 
she  not  only  passed  like  Madame  Victoire  without  speak- 
ing to  the  young  painter,  but  darted  on  him  an  indignant 
glance  which  distressed  him.  The  Duchesse  de  Nar- 
bonne,  who  followed,  fixed  on  Goubaud  a  piercing  look 
which  seemed  to  say,  <(  What !  have  you  such  audacity  ? w 
The  young  artist  mentally  reviewed  every  act  of  his 
that  could  possibly  have  given  offense,  and  finally  com- 
forted himself  with  the  reflection  that  the  displeasure  of 
his  patronesses  was  undeserved. 

The  return  from  Mass  was  equally  solemn,  and  the 
whole  establishment,  modeling  their  conduct  after  that 
of  the  Princesses,  seemed  to  shun  Goubaud  as  if  he  had 
just  imported  the  yellow  fever  from  Cadiz. 

The  young  artist,  who  had  a  grateful  and  susceptible 
heart,  retired  to  his  study  and  gave  himself  up  to  mel- 
ancholy reflections;  scarely  had  he  entered,  when  a  mes- 
senger from  Madame  de  Narbonne  brought  him  a  brief 
and  precise  order  to  quit  Caserta  that  very  day. 

His  patience  now  deserted  him,  and  anger  for  a  mo- 
ment superseded  grief;  but  his  eyes  falling  on  the  mag- 
nificent view  which  unfolded  before  him  all  the  magic 
images  of  beauty,  surrounding  a  dwelling  in  which,  wel- 
comed as  a  friend,  as  a  '  beloved  child,  he  had  passed 
the  happiest  days  of  his  life,  (<  I  should  be  mad,"  thought 
he,  <(  to  retire  without  inquiring  the  cause  of  my  dis- 
grace w ;  and  he  immediately  reqiiested  a  parting  audience 
of  Madame  de  Narbonne,  who  granted  it  on  the  instant; 
but,  as  he  entered,  panting  for  breath,  "What!"  cried 
she  in  a  fury,  and  without  giving  him  time  to  speak  — 
"what!  you  have  the  boldness,  the  impudence,  to  pre- 
sent yourself  before  me  in  your  odious  cravat  ? w 

Goubaud  was   confounded. 

w  My  cravat,  MADAME  LA   DUCHESSE  ! M 

"Yes,  sir;  your  cravat.  Is  not  exile  a  sufficient  mis- 
fortune ?  Must  Adelaide  and  Victoire  of  France,  the 
daughters  of  Louis  XV.,  be  persecuted  in  that  exile,  in- 
sulted even  with  the  sight  of  a  tricolored  flag  ?  * 

^Ah!    mon    Dieu ! >}    cried    Goubaud,  and  the  immense 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  445 

corners  of  his  cravat  striking  his  eyes,  he  snatched  it 
from  his  neck  and  stood  dismayed,  as  if  really  criminal ; 
the  cravat  was  as  perfect  a  tricolor  as  the  flag  which 
now  waves  over  the  Chateau  of  the  Tuileries.  The  poor 
youth  held  in  his  hands  the  accusing  witness,  and  be- 
lieved it  had  been  placed  there  by  some  mischievous 
demon  who  had  fascinated  his  eyes. 

Born  and  bred  in  Italy,  and  in  retirement,  he  had 
never  seen  the  tricolored  flag,  nor  even  thought  of  it 
but  as  associated  with  the  misfortunes  of  those  kind  and 
benevolent  Princesses  for  whom  he  would  have  laid  down 
his  life. 

He  had  little  difficulty  in  explaining  the  innocence  of 
his  intentions  to  the  good-natured  Duchess,  who  under- 
took to  plead  for  him  with  his  benefactresses.  She  soon 
returned  from  her  compassionate  mission  with  a  free 
pardon,  giving  him  at  the  same  time,  from  the  royal 
ladies,  a  packet  containing  a  dozen  superb  white  cravats, 
and  ordering  for  the  altar  of  the  chapel  a  painting  of 
the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin,  which  the  grateful  artist 
commenced  without  the  loss  of  an  hour,  and  in  a  few 
days  his  study  was  again  visited  by  the  Princesses,  <(  to 
cement  the  pardon,"  as  Mademoiselle  Adelaide  expressed 
herself. 

Goubaud  was  afterwards  miniature  painter  to  the  Em- 
peror Napoleon,  and  in  1813  was  appointed  painter  to 
the  King  of  Rome  and  the  children  of  France;  and  he 
has  recently  finished  a  splendid  picture  of  the  captive 
Napoleon. 


446  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 


CHAPTER    LXII. 

Malmaison  —  Its  Park  —  Bonaparte's  Project  —  Mademoiselle  Julien  — 
The  Consul's  Tent,  Love  of  Air,  and  the  Fire  in  Summer  —  Apart- 
ment of  Mademoiselle  Hortense  —  Manner  of  Life  at  Malmaison 
—  Female  Breakfasts — Facility  of  Madame  Bonaparte  in  Granting 
Her  Protection  —  Madame  Savary  and  Madame  Lannes  —  Madame 
d'Houdetot  and  M.  de  Cere — Unexpected  Favor,  Mission,  Delay, 
and  Disgrace  —  The  Memorial  and  the  Bill. 

THE  park  of  Malmaison  was  enchanting,  notwithstand- 
ing its  proximity  to  the  barren  mountain  on  one 
side.  The  river,  though  running  far  below,  imparted 
strength  and  luxuriance  to  its  vegetation;  and  nothing 
could  be  greener,  more  fresh,  or  umbrageous,  than  the 
field  from  which  it  was  separated  only  by  a  ha-ha,  and 
that  part  of  the  park  itself  which  is  bounded  by  the  road. 
The  extent  of  the  park  did  not  exceed  a  hundred  acres; 
and  Bonaparte,  on  his  return  from  Egypt,  endeavored  to 
persuade  Mademoiselle  Julien,  a  rich  old  maid  of  the  vil- 
lage of  Ruelle,  as  an  act  of  good  neighborship,  to  sell 
him,  at  her  own  price,  an  adjoining  garden,  or  small 
park,  by  which  addition  Malmaison  would  have  been  placed 
on  so  respectable  a  footing  that  he  need  no  longer  have 
blushed  to  compare  it  with  the  magnificent  estate  of  his 
brother  Joseph. 

The  First  Consul  had  a  small  private  garden,  separated 
only  by  a  bridge  from  his  private  cabinet.  It  was  here 
that  he  took  the  air,  when  labor  rendered  moderate  ex- 
ercise necessary  to  him ;  for  at  that  time,  and  for  two 
years  succeeding,  he  allowed  himself  no  repose  but  what 
Nature  imperatively  required.  The  bridge  was  covered 
in  and  arranged  like  a  small  tent;  here  his  table  was 
carried,  and  he  would  employ  himself  with  State  papers, 
saying  that  he  felt  his  ideas  become  more  elevated  and 
expansive  in  the  air  than  when  seated  beside  a  stove  and 
shut  out  from  communication  with  the  sky. 

Yet  Bonaparte  could  not  endure  the  smallest  degree  of 
cold;  had  fires  lighted  in  July,  and  wondered  that  others 
did  not  suffer  like  himself  from  the  first  breath  of  a  north 
wind. 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  447 

Our  life  at  Malmaison  resembled  that  usually  led  when 
much  company  is  assembled  together  at  a  chtitcan  in  the 
country.  Our  apartments  consisted  of  a  chamber,  a  bou- 
doir, and  a  room  for  the  chambermaid,  all  very  simply 
furnished.  That  occupied  by  Mademoiselle  Hortense  dif- 
fered from  the  others  only  by  a  folding-  door;  and  this 
apartment  was  not  assigned  her  till  after  her  marriage. 
All  opened  on  a  long  and  narrow  paved  corridor,  looking 
into  the  court. 

We  chose  our  own  hour  of  rising,  and  until  breakfast 
our  time  was  at  our  own  disposal.  At  eleven  the  ladies 
all  met  for  breakfast  in  a  small  low  salon  of  the  right 
wing,  opening  to  the  court;  but,  as  in  Paris,  gentlemen 
were  never  admitted  to  the  party,  unless,  occasionally, 
Joseph,  Louis,  or  one  of  the  family.  Breakfast  was  fol- 
lowed by  conversation,  or  the  reading  of  the  journals, 
and  someone  always  arrived  from  Paris  to  have  AN  AU- 
DIENCE, for  already  Madame  Bonaparte  gave  audiences, 
'contrary  to  the  express  orders  of  the  First  Consul,  and 
patronized  petitions,  though  his  anger  at  her  interference 
had  already  caused  her  abundance  of  tears;  but  when  a 
beautiful  pearl  necklace  or  bracelet  of  rubies  was  offered, 
through  the  hands  of  Bourrienne,  or  of  any  other  friend, 
the  elegance  of  a  present  so  wholly  unconnected  with  the 
matters  in  hand  suppressed  all  curious  speculations  into 
the  nature  of  the  mine  which  produced  it. 

The  First  Consul  was  never  visible  till  dinner  time. 
At  five  or  six  in  the  morning  he  descended  to  his  cabi- 
net, and  was  there  occupied  with  Bourrienne,  or  with  the 
Ministers,  Generals,  and  Councilors  of  State,  till  the 
dinner  hour  of  six,  when  the  party  was  generally  joined 
by  some  invited  guests.  All  the  suite  of  the  First  Con- 
sul were  at  this  time  enlarging  his  household  by  mar- 
riage; Colonel  Savary  had  just  married  a  relation  of 
Madame  Bonaparte  (an  unhoped-for  happiness  to  a  man 
whose  life  knew  no  other  impulse  than  the  desire  of  ad- 
vancement) ;  his  wife  was  pretty,  but  had  bad  teeth. 

Madame  Lannes  was  really  handsome,  and  in  high  fa. 
vor  at  Malmaison,  of  which  she  was  every  way  worthy; 
gentle,  unconscious  of  envy,  and  never  sacrificing  to  a 
jest  the  peace  or  reputation  of  another.  In  person  she 
might  have  formed  a  model  for  the  most  beautiful  Ma- 
donnas of  Raphael  or  Coreggio ;  such  was  the  symmetry 


448  MEMOIRS   OF    MADAME   JUNOT 

of  her  features,  the  calmness  of  her  countenance,  the  se- 
renity of  her  smile.  I  first  saw  her  at  a  ball,  where  she 
scarcely  danced,  although  her  figure  was  light  and  ele- 
gant. In  the  dignified  station  to  which  fate  exalted  her 
after  the  death  of  her  husband,  the  Duchess  de  Monte  - 
bello's  conduct  was  perfectly  irreproachable ;  and  she  was 
ever  ready  to  oblige  or  serve  others  as  far  as  was  con- 
sistent with  the  severity  of  the  Emperor,  who  would  inevi- 
tably have  discouraged  and  opposed  any  affair  recommended 
by  a  woman,  and  with  the  apathy  of  the  Empress,  who,  on 
quitting  her  early  home,  had  not,  as  assuredly  the  Archduke 
Charles  would  have  advised  her,  created  for  herself  a  new 
one. 

But  to  return  to  Josephine  and  her  morning  audiences. 
This  was  the  only  time  that  the  surveillance  of  the  First 
Consul  left  her  at  liberty,  and  he  then  committed  the 
duty  to  Bourrienne,  who  tells  us  (<he  would  have  deemed 
it  disgraceful  to  act  as  a  spy  on  the  wife  of  his  friend, w 
and  therefore  contented  himself  with  concealing  from  the 
First  Consul  such  acquisitions  of  jewelry,  etc.,  as  made 
no  claim  on  the  public  finances.  I  must,  however,  do 
Madame  Bonaparte  the  justice  to  say  that  she  saw  noth- 
ing of  all  these  intrigues,  but  confined  herself  to  writing 
a  few  lines  to  Berthier,  who  had  much  more  considera- 
tion for  her  than  any  of  the  other  Ministers ;  so  little  in- 
terest, indeed,  had  she  with  them,  that  importunity  alone 
could  not  give  any  weight  to  her  requests;  the  influence 
of  Mademoiselle  Hortense,  had  she  exerted  it,  would  have 
been  far  more  effective. 

But  if  Madame  Bonaparte's  credit  with  the  authorities 
was  at  a  low  ebb,  her  reputation  for  it  was  also  injured 
by  her  own  proceedings;  for  example,  among  her  most 
attached  friends  was  Madame  Houdetot,  and  her  inter- 
position was  for  once  successful  in  recommending  that 
lady's  brother,  M.  de  Cere,  to  the  First  Consul's  favor, 
in  which  sense,  good  manners,  and  a  pleasing  address 
rapidly  advanced  him.  He  was  becoming  a  familiar  on 
the  establishment  when  he  was  sent  on  a  mission,  and  a 
certain  day  fixed  for  his  return,  after  which  he  was  to 
receive  the  appointment  of  aid-de-camp.  But,  alas! 
youth  is  heedless,  and  M.  de  Ce"re  exceeded  his  appoint- 
ment by  a  whole  fortnight. 

Napoleon,  doubly  incensed  by  the  neglect  of  his  orders 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  449 

and  by  his  own  error  of  judgment,  a  circumstance  not 
very  common,  would  listen  to  no  solicitations  for  par- 
don, and  peremptorily  prohibited  the  young  man's  reap- 
pearance before  him ;  while  Madame  Bonaparte  observed 
that  <(  a  volcanic  head,  leading  into  follies  for  want  of  re- 
flection, should  not  be  associated  with  the  indolence  of 
a  Creole. w 

After  many  months  had  elapsed,  determined  on  a  new 
effort  to  recover  his  lost  ground,  he  solicited,  through 
the  medium  of  his  sister  and  of  Savary,  who  was  also 
his  friend,  an  audience  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  and  to 
his  great  joy  was  desired  to  repair  on  the  morrow  to 
Malmaison,  furnished  with  a  very  clear  and  explicit 
memorial,  which  Josephine  promised  to  forward.  Arriv- 
ing at  the  chdteau,  he  found  Madame,  as  usual,  gracious 
and  enchanting;  she  told  him  that  the  First  Consul,  already 
predisposed  by  her,  would  easily  overlook  an  irregularity 
which  M.  de  Ce're'  promised  to  obliterate  by  future  good 
conduct,  and  concluded  by  receiving  his  memorial,  and 
recommending  him  to  come  himself  in  a  few  days  for 
the  answer. 

The  poor  young  man,  intoxicated  with  the  success  of 
his  overtures,  demanded  by  anticipation  the  congratula- 
tions of  his  friends;  but  he  discovered,  before  retiring 
to  rest,  that  the  memorial  was  still  in  his  pocket,  and 
he  had  left  as  its  substitute  in  the  hands  of  his  patroness 
a  long  bill  from  his  tailor.  In  despair  at  an  incident 
which  threatened  annihilation  to  all  his  new-raised  hopes, 
he  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  early  in  the  morning 
was  again  on  the  road  to  Malmaison,  determined,  as  his 
last  chance,  to  explain  the  whole  affair  to  Madame 
Bonaparte.  His  consternation  may  be  imagined  when, 
advancing  with  outstretched  hand  to  meet  him,  she  an- 
ticipated his  explanation  with: 

(<  How  happy  I  am!  I  have  delivered  your  memorial 
to  the  First  Consul,  and  we  read  it  together;  it  was  ad- 
mirably drawn  up,w  added  she,  with  an  approving  smile, 
(<  and  made  a  great  impression  upon  him.  He  told  me 
Berthier  should  report  it,  and  within  a  fortnight  all  will 
be  settled.  I  assure  you,  won  chcr,  this  success,  for  I 
consider  the  affair  as  concluded,  made  me  the  whole  of 
yesterday  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world." 

If  the  actual  memorial  had  not  been  at  that  moment  in 
29 


450  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

his  pocket  he  would  have  persuaded  himself  it  was  really 
in  the  hands  of  the  First  Consul,  and  that  his  unhappy 
carelessness  was  all  a  dream  ! 

From  this  instance  it  may  be  inferred  that  Madame 
Bonaparte,  though  perfectly  good  natured,  and  with  the 
utmost  disposition  to  oblige,  could  not  be  entirely  de- 
pended upon  in  the  management  of  any  affair.  She 
desired  to  confer  favors,  but  this  desire  yielded  to 
the  smallest  apprehension  of  the  First  Consul's  dis- 
pleasure. 

Bonaparte  was  very  partial  to  Malmaison,  and  insisted 
on  all  the  visitors  being  entirely  at  their  ease ;  it  was  al- 
ways he  who  opposed  the  restraints  of  etiquette,  which 
already  Madame  Bonaparte  liked,  and  would  fain  have 
introduced,  although  as  burdensome  to  herself  as  to 
others. 


CHAPTER   LXIII. 

The  Wednesdays  at  Malmaison  —  The  Stage  Company  at  Malmaison  — 
Bonaparte  Treated  Like  a  Boy  —  Dinners  in  the  Park — Party  at 
Barriers,  and  the  First  Consul  without  His  Coat — Fright  of  Madame 
Bonaparte — Rapp,  Eugene,  and  the  Veteran  Soldier  Recognized  by 
the  First  Consul  —  Voluntary  Engagement  —  Curious  and  Touching 
Scene  —  Panic  Terror  at  Malmaison  —  The  Inhabitants  in  Dis- 
habille. 

EVERY  Wednesday  there  was  a  grand  dinner  at  Mal- 
maison. The  Second  Consul  was  always  of  the 
party,  with  the  Ministers,  Counselors  of  State,  some 
particularly  esteemed  Generals,  and  a  few  ladies  of  un- 
spotted reputation ;  for  Napoleon  was  then  rigorous  in  the 
choice  of  Madame  Bonaparte's  society.  We  acted  plays 
in  the  evening,  and  the  part  of  the  abigails  fell  to  my  lot. 
Madame  Savary  was  also  of  our  company;  Junot  was  our 
best  actor,  and  Bourrienne,  Eugene  Beauharnais  and 
Lauriston  had  talent.  It  was  no  trifle  to  play  before,  not 
only  an  audience  of  three  hundred  persons,  but  the  First 
Consul  in  particular;  for  my  part  I  should  have  preferred 
doubling  the  number,  could  he  have  been  by  that  means 
excluded. 

It  was  singular  enough  that  I,  certainly  the  most  free 


DUCHESS  OF   ABRANTES  451 

with  him  of  the  whole  establishment,  and  the  most  ready 
to  answer  his  pleasantries  —  I,  in  short,  who  already  gave 
indications  of  the  woman  who,  according  to  his  own  con- 
fession of  St.  Helena,  treated  him  as  a  boy  (en  petit 
gar$on),  the  day  that  he  addressed  to  my  ears  words  to 
which  it  did  not  become  me  to  listen  —  I  could  not 
endure  his  criticisms,  just  or  unjust,  on  my  performance, 
however  convinced  that  he  was  mistaken,  and  that  I  best 
understood  my  own  business  with  the  assistance  of 
Dugazon,  my  prompter. 

The  dinner  hour,  as  I  have  before  said,  was  six;  and 
when  the  weather  was  fine  the  First  Consul  ordered  the 
table  to  be  laid  in  the  park  on  the  left  of  the  lawn; 
the  dinner  was  soon  dispatched,  and  he  found  it  weari- 
somely protracted  if  we  sat  more  than  half  an  hour. 

When  he  was  in  good  humor,  the  weather  fine,  and  he 
had  a  few  minutes'  leisure  from  the  labor  which  even  at 
that  time  was  killing  him,  he  would  play  at  barriers  with 
us.  He  cheated  us,  as  at  r  ever  sis*  would  throw  us 
down,  or  come  upon  us  without  crying  barre!  but  these 
tricks  were  only  calculated  to  raise  a  laugh.  His  coat 
was  on  such  occasions  laid  aside,  and  he  ran  like  a  hare, 
or  rather  like  the  gazelle,  which  he  would  feed  with  a 
boxful  of  tobacco,  and  tell  her  to  run  after  us,  and  the 
tormenting  animal  tore  our  clothes,  and  sometimes 
our  legs. 

One  fine  day  after  dinner  he  exclaimed,  w  Let  us  play 
at  barriers!"  Off  went  his  coat,  and  the  next  moment 
the  conqueror  of  the  world  was  racing  like  a  schoolboy. 
The  park  at  Malmaison  was  not  then  as  complete  as  it 
now  is,  although  the  most  shameful  vandalism  has  spared 
no  effort  to  extinguish  the  remembrances  attached  even 
to  a  few  plants.  It  was  separated  only  by  a  ha-ha  from 
an  open  field,  afterward  purchased  for  a  plantation,  and 
the  curious  could  observe  from  this  field  all  that  passed 
in  the  park. 

Madame  Bonaparte  had  been  leaning  with  Madame 
Lavalette  on  the  iron  railing  which  overlooked  the  ha-ha, 
when,  advancing  a  few  steps,  they  were  alarmed  by  the 
sight  of  two  men,  of  rough  manners,  shabby  dress,  and 
very  suspicious  appearance,  who  were  eyeing  the  First 

*  A  game  of  cards  still  in  vogue  with  the  dowagers  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain. 


452  MEMOIRS  OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

Consul  and  whispering  to  one  another.  I  had  ceased 
playing,  and  at  this  moment  approached  Madame  Bona- 
parte, who  took  my  arm,  and  sent  Lavalette  to  seek  her 
husband  or  Eugene,  but  charged  her  to  be  careful  that 
the  First  Consul  did  not  discover  her  errand,  for  he  de- 
tested any  precautions. 

She  met  Rapp,  who  required  no  stimulating  whenever 
the  shadow  of  danger  threatened  his  General;  in  a  few 
seconds  he  was  beside  the  men,  and,  accosting  them 
somewhat  roughly,  demanded  their  reason  for  standing 
there  frightening  ladies,  and  threatened  them  with 
arrest.  They  stoutly  maintained  their  right  to  look  at 
their  General,  who,  they  were  certain,  would  not  drive 
them  away,  and  appealed  to  Eugene,  who,  coming  up  at 
that  moment  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  recognized  one 
of  the  intruders  for  an  old  chasseur  of  his  regiment. 
The  veteran  explained  in  humorous  and  military  phrase 
that  the  loss  of  his  arm  having  disabled  him  for  further 
service,  his  brother  wished  to  be  accepted  as  his  sub- 
stitute ;  and  to  arrange  this  affair,  they  were  come  in 
search  of  their  commander,  when  the  sight  of  the  First 
Consul  at  full  play  had  arrested  their  steps;  and,  having 
finished  this  explanation,  they  turned  away. 

Bonaparte,  with  his  eyes  which  saw  without  looking, 
and  his  ears  which  heard  without  listening,  had  from  the 
first  word  been  in  possession  of  a  key  to  the  whole  scene : 
he  remembered  the  old  quartermaster  of  his  chasseurs, 
who  at  Montebello  or  Marengo  had  lost  an  arm  while 
defending  the  life  of  a  wounded  officer.  The  First  Con- 
sul had  himself  caused  him  to  be  carried  off  the  field, 
and  as  the  veteran  had  since  been  presented  to  him  on 
parade,  he  recalled  his  features.  <(  Oh !  oh ! >}  said  he, 
(<  there  are  the  Invalides  in  retreat.  Good  day,  my  boy. 
Well,  you  are  come  to  see  me,  then  ?  Come !  face  about ! 
march  once  more  at  the  command  of  your  general.  Con- 
duct him,  Eugene. w 

And  passing  his  arm  around  Josephine's  waist,  he  led 
her  to  the  entrance  of  the  clidteau,  where  we  met  the 
two  brothers,  Eugene,  and  Rapp.  The  old  chasseur  pre- 
sented his  brother  to  the  First  Consul,  reminding  him  at 
the  same  time  that  no  legal  obligations  demanded  his 
services.  (<  It  is  a  voluntary  engagement,  General, )}  said 
he,  ((  and  you  are  his  Recruiting-Captain. w 


DUCHESS   OF   ABRANTES  453 

"Since  I  am  the  Recruiting-Captain,"  said  the  First 
Consul,  <(the  recruit  must  drink  my  health  and  that  of 
the  Republic.  Eugene,  take  charge  of  your  soldier,  my 
boy;  you  will  pledge  him  in  my  name." 

The  old  chasseur  watched  the  departing  steps  of  his 
General,  and,  when  he  disappeared  from  his  sight,  burst 
into  tears. 

a  Come,  come,  my  old  comrade,  a  little  more  self- 
command,"  said  Eugene;  (<  why,  the  deuce,  you  are  like  a 
woman !  M 

<(  Ah !  talking  of  women,  a  pretty  mess  I  have  made,  * 
said  the  maimed  veteran ;  w  why,  I  have  spoken  to  the 
Gtnfrale  Consule  as  if  I  were  speaking  to  Nanny  and 
Peggy-  And  yet  she  seems  all  goodness,  yonder  brave 
Citoyenne. " 

Whenever  the  First  Consul  played  at  barriers  we  all 
walked,  and  both  cards  and  chess  were  superseded.  This 
evening,  therefore,  he  retired  to  his  cabinet,  and  we  saw 
no  more  of  him.  Madame  Bonaparte  had  been  so  fright- 
ened by  the  sight  of  the  men  that  nothing  could  rally 
her  spirits.  Eugene,  Bessieres,  and  Junot  were  all  re- 
turned to  Paris,  and,  no  one  remaining  to  cheer  her, 
we  spent  the  evening  in  enumerating  and  recounting  all 
the  vain  attempts  made  within  the  last  year  against  the 
life  of  the  First  Consul. 

His  wife  loved  him;  the  influence  of  gratitude  on  a 
good  heart  had  bound  her  to  him.  She  cried,  and  em- 
bracing me,  said,  (<  The  figure  of  this  man  has  made 
such  a  terrible  impression  on  me,  that  I  am  certain  I 
shall  not  sleep  to-night;  and  Bonaparte,  if  he  hears  me 
complain,  he  is  angry.  He  never  has  anything  to  fear, 
according  to  his  own  account." 

We  all  retired  to  our  chambers  with  the  nervousness 
that  pervades  a  party  of  children  who  have  been  listen- 
ing to  ghost  stories,  and  midnight  had  not  struck  before 
the  whole  clidteau,  buried  in  sleep,  might  have  re- 
sembled that  of  Beauty  in  the  Sleeping  Wood,  if  the 
moonbeams  had  not  been  occasionally  seen  to  glimmer 
on  the  arms  of  those  faithful  guards,  those  chasseurs  a 
cheval,  who  silently  paraded  the  park,  watching  over  the 
safety  of  him  who  was  the  safety  of  all. 

Suddenly  a  report  of  firearms  was  heard  from  the  ditch 
of  the  chateau,  and  instantly,  before  we  could  recover 


454  MEMOIRS   OF   MADAME   JUNOT 

our  breath,  suspended  by  fear,  everyone  was  on  foot. 
The  First  Consul  was  already  in  the  corridor  in  his 
dressing  gown,  holding  a  taper,  and  crying  with  his 
powerful  and  sonorous  voice,  <(  Do  not  be  frightened ; 
there  is  nothing  the  matter. w 

He  was  as  calm  as  if  his  sleep  had  not  been  disturbed: 
this  I  can  answer  for,  because  my  glance  of  inquiry  was 
fixed  upon  his  countenance;  he  was  calm  without  indif- 
ference, but  he  was  evidently  a  thousand  cubits  above  the 
apprehension  of  danger.  His  destiny  was  not  fulfilled, 
and  he  knew  it! 

The  alarm  arose  from  the  carbine  of  one  of  the  chas- 
seurs having  gone  off  in  consequence  of  his  horse  stum- 
bling on  a  molehill. 

When  the  First  Consul  heard  the  report  of  his  aid-de- 
camp he  laughed,  and  called  through  a  little  door  at  the 
foot  of  the  grand  staircase: 

(< Josephine,  dry  your  eyes;  a  mole  has  done  all  the 
mischief;  no  great  wonder,  for  it  is  an  ugly  animal.  As 
for  the  chasseur,  two  days'  arrest,  to  teach  him  and  his 
horse  not  to  pass  again  over  my  lawn.  As  1  suppose  he 
has  had  a  fine  fright  himself,  his  punishment  shall  not 
last  longer.  Good  night,  ladies;  go  to  bed  again,  and 
sleep  well. w  In  passing  by  my  door  he  added :  <(  Felice 
notte,  Signora  Loulou,  dolci  riposo.^  (( Felicissimo  riposo, 
Signor  Generale.^ 


A    001  317126 


